PR 

\&(* hit 

\810 



i 



^litjfcs 




QH TBOVC : 



; >HTS 



) *s 



^— ^oolic^^dwt ^bition of- 







THOUGHTS 



AND OTHER 



MISCELLANEOUS PIECES, 

BY THE 

REV. WILLIAM^DODD, LL.D. 

M 

WITH THE LIFE OF THE AUTHOR* 



«To0fce'£ ^ijition. 




EMBELLISHED WITH ENGRAVINGS. - 



dotation: 

Printed for C. COOKE, No. 17, Paternofter«Rovr« 

And fold by all the Eookfellers in 

Sreat Britain and 

Ireland, 



- f > 



a 



^ 







ADVERTISEMENT 

Originally prefixed to the Prifon Thoughts. 



*T*HE following Work, as the dates of the refpeeVive parts 
evince, was begun by its unhappy Author in his apart- 
ments at Newgate, on the evening of che day fubfequerit to his 
trial and conviction at Juftice-haJl ,• and was finifhed, amidft 
various neceflary interruptions, in little more than the fpace 
of two months. 

Prefixed to the Manufcript is the enfuing Note : 

April 23, 1777. 

u I began thefe Thoughts mereW from the irnpreflion of 

my mind, without plan, purpofe, or motive, more than the 

Gtuation and ftate of my foul. 1 continued them on a 

• thoughtful and regular plan ; and I have been enabled 

' wonderfully — in a ftate, which in better days I mould have 

u fuppofed would have deftroyed all power of reflection — to 

** bring them nearly to a concluflon. I dedicate them to 

u God, and the refiecl'ing Serious among my fellow-creatures' 5 

" and blefs the Almighty to go through them, amidft the 

<* terrors of this dire place, and the anguifh or my oifcon- 

(i folate mind ! 

a The Thinking will eafily pardon all inaccuracies, as I am 
u neither able nor willing to read over thefe melancholy lines 
€i with a curious and critical eye ! They are imperfecT, but the 
** language of the heart ; and, had I time and inclination, 
* e might and mould be improved. 

« But 

" W. D." 

The few little Pieces fubjoined to the Thoughts, and the 

Author's Laft Prayer, were found amongft his papers. Their 

evident connection with the Poem was the inducement for 

adding them to the Volume. 

a 2 ADVER- 






ADVERTISEMENT. 

*TpHE Work now offered a fourth time to the Public, was the 
lafl performance of one who often afforded amufement and 
inftruction j who poffeffed the talents of pleafing in a high, 
degree, whofe labours were devoted to advance the intereffs of 
Religion and Morality, and who, during the greater part of his 
life, was efteemed, beloved, and refpected, by all to whom he 
was known. Uuhappily for himfelf and his connections, the 
dictates of prudence were unattended to amidff the fafhionable 
dilTipation of the times. "With many advantages both natural 
and acquired, and with the moft. flattering profpecls before him, 
he, by an act of folly, to give it no worfe a name, plunged 
himfelf from a Situation, in which he had every happinefs to 
expect, into a ftate, which, to contemplate, muff fill the mind 
with artonifhrnent and horror. It was in fome of the moft 
dreadful moments of his life, when the exercife of every faculty 
might be prefumed to be fufpended, that the prefent work was 
corcpofed t a work which will be ever read with wonder, as 
exhibiting an extraordinary exertion of the mental powers in 
very unpropitious circumflances, and affording, at the fame 
time, a ieffon worthy the moft attentive confideration of every 
one into whofe hands it may chance to fail. As the curiofity 
of the World will naturally follow the perfon whofe foiitude 
and confinement produced the inftruction to be derived from 
this performance, a fhort Account of the Life of the Author, 
is now prefixed. To enlarge on the merit of this Poem 
will be unneceffary. The feelings of every reader will 
eftimate and proportion its value. That it contains an awful 
admonition to the gay and diftipated, will be readily acknow- 
ledged by every reflecting mind, efpecially when it is con- 
sidered as the bitter fruit of thofe fafhionable indulgences 
which brought difgrace and death upon its unhappy author, 
in fpiteof learning and genius, accomplishments the moft 
captivating, and fervices the moll: important to mankind 






I __:; 







WW 



££? : 






D ODD. 



I 



EiiJTvr. 3 rrr LJ.ccJce-Jfrii zfl^Sio 



THE LIFE OF 

THE REVEREND 

WILLIAM DODD, LL. D. 



TTTILLTAM DODD was the eldeft fon of a clergy- 
man of the fame name, who held the vicarage 
of Bourne, in the county of Lincoln, where he died the 
8th day of Auguft, 1756, at the age of 54. years. His 
fon was born at Bourne, on the 29th of May, 1729, 
and, after finiming his fchool education, was admitted 
a Sizar of Clay Hall, Cambridge, in the year 1745, 
under the tuition of Mr. John Courtail, afterwards 
Archdeacon of Lewes. At the univerfity he acquired 
the notice of his fuperiors by a clofe application to his 
fludies ; and in the year 1749- 50 took his firrc degree of 
.Bachelor of Arts with confiderable reputation, his name 
being in the lift of wranglers on that occauon. It was 
not, however, only in his academical purfuits that he 
was emulous of diftinclion. Having a pleafing form, 
a genteel addrefs, and a lively imagination, he was 
equally celebrated for accomplishments which feldom ac- 
company a life of learned retirement. In particular, he 
was fond of the elegancies of drefs, and became, as he 
ludicroudy expreffed it, a zealous votary of the God of 
Dancing, to whole fervice he dedicated much of that 
time and attention, which he could borrow from his 
more important avocations. 

The talents which he pofleiTed he very early difplayed 
to the public : and by the time he had attained the age of 
eighteen years, prompted by the defire of fame, and per- 
haps to increaf e his income, commenced author, in which 
character he began to obtain ibme degree of reputation. 

At this period of his life, young, thoughtlefs, volatile, 
and inexperienced, he precipitately quitted the imiver- 
a 3 fityi 



vi THE LIFE OF 

fity, and, relying entirely on his pen, removed to the 
metropolis, where he entered largely into the gaieties of 
the town, was a conftant frequenter of all places of pub- 
lic diverfion, and followed every fpecies of amufement 
with the mod dangerous avidity. In this courfe, how- 
ever, he did not continue long. To the furpfife 4 of his 
friends, who leaft iufpe&ed him of taking fuch a flep, 
without fortune, with few friends, and deftitute of all 
means of fupporting a family, he nattily united himielf 
on the 15th of- April, 1751, in marriage with Mifs 
Mary Perkins, daughter of one of the domeftics of Sir 
John Dolben, a young lady then refiding in Frith Street, 
Soho, who, though largely endowed with perfonal at- 
tractions, 'was certainly deficient in thofe of birth and 
fortune. To a perfon circumstanced as Mr. Dodd then 
was, no meafure could be more imprudent, or appa- 
rently more ruinous and deftruclive of his future prof- 
peels in life. He did not, however, feem to view it in 
that light, but, with a degree of thoughtfulnefs natural 
10 him, immediately took and furniihed a houfe in War- 
dour Street. Thus dancing on the brink of a precipice, 
and carelefs of to-morrow, his friends began to be 
alarmed at his iituation. His father came to town in 
great diftrefs upon the occafion, and by parental in- 
junction he quitted his houfe before winter. By the 
fame advice he probably was induced to adopt a new 
plan for his future fubfiftenee. On the 19th of Octo- 
ber, in that year, he was ordained a deacon by the bi- 
fhopofEly, at Caius College, Cambridge; and, with 
more prudence than he had ever (hewn before, devoted 
himfelf with great afnduity to the ftudy and duties of 
his profefiion. In thefe purfuits he appeared fo lincere, 
that he even renounced all attention to his favourite ob- 
jects, Polite Letters. At the end of his preface to the 
Beauties qf Shake f pear e> published in this year, he fays, 
«< For my own part, better and more important things 
henceforth demand my attention ; and I here with no 
fmall pleafure takt; kaveof Shakefpeare and the Critics : 
as this work was begun and finifhed before I entered 

upon 



WILLIAM DODD, LL. D. vl? 

upon the facred function in which [ am now happily 
employed, let me truft, this juvenile performance will 
prove no objection, fince graver, and fome very eminent 
members of the church, have thought it no improper 
employ to comment, explain, and publifh, the works of 
their own country poets/ ' 

The-firft iervice in which he was engaged as a cler- 
gyman, was to. affirf. the Rev. Mr, Wyatt, vicar of 
Weft Ham, as his curate • thither he removed, and there 
he fpent the happiert and morf. honourable moments of 
his life. His behaviour was proper, decent, and exem- 
plary. It acquired him the refpect, and fecured him 
the favour of his parimioners fo far, that, on the death 
of their lecturer, in 1752, he was chofen to fucceed him. 
His abilities had at this time every opportunity of being 
fhewn to advantage 5 and his exertions were fo properly 
directed, that he foon became a favourite and popular 
preacher. Thofe who remember him at this period will 
bear ' teftimony to the indefatigable zeal which he ex- 
erted in his miniury, and the fuccefs which crowned his 
efforts. The follies of his youth feemed entirely extin- 
guiiheci, his friends viewed his conduct with the utmoft 
fatisfaction, and the world promifed itielf an example to 
hold out for the imitation of his brethren. 

At this early feaibn of his life he entertained favour- 
able fentimetits of the doctrine of Mr. Hutchinibn, and 
was fufpected to incline towards the opinions of the me- 
thodiits. A more mature age, however, induced him to 
renounce the one, and to difclaim the other. In 175a 
he was appointed lecturer of St. James, Garlick Hill, 
which two years afterwards he exchanged for the lame 
poft at St. Olave, Hart Street. About the fame tin 
was appointed to preach Lady Mover's lectures at St, 
Paul's ; where, from the viiit of the three angels to Abra- 
ham, and other fimilar paflages from the Old Tellameht, 
he endeavoured to prove the commonly received doctrine 
of the Trinity. On the eftablifliment of the Magdalen 
Houfe, in 175S, he was amongft the firft and moft active 
promoters of that charitable inltitution ; which received 

great 



— 



viii THE LIFE OF 

great advantage from his zeal for its profperity, and, 
even ro the conclufcn of nis life, continued to be mate- 
rially benefited by his labours. 

From the time Mr. Dodd entered into the fervice of 
the church, he refided at Weft Ham, and made up the 
deficiencies of his income by fuperintending the educa- 
tion of ibrne young gentlemen who were piaced under 
his care. In 1759 he took his degree of Matter of Arts. 
In the year 1763 hew-as appointed Chaplain in Ordi- 
nary to the King, and about the fame time became 
known to Dr. Squire, bifhop of St. David's, who re- 
ceived him into his patronage, prefented him to the pre- 
bend of Brecon, and recommended him to the Earl of 
Chefterfield, as a proper perfon to be entruikd with the 
tuition of his fucceffor in the title. The next year faw 
him chaplain to his majefty. In 1766 he took the de- 
gree of Doctor of Laws at Cambridge. He had fome 
expectations of fucceeding to the rectory of Weft Ham j 
bur, having been twice difappointed, he refigned his 
lectiirdhips both there and in the city, and quitted the 
place; " a place (fays he to Lord Chefterfleld) ever dear 
and ever regretted by me, the lofs of which, truly af- 
fecting to mv mind, (for there I was ufeful, and there I 
truft I was loved) nothing but your lordmip's friend/hip 
and connection could have counterbalanced." From a 
paflage in his Thoughts in Prifon> it may be inferred, 
that he was compelled to quit this his favourite refi- 
dencc ; a circumftance which he pathetically laments, 
and probably with great reafon, as the full itep to that 
change in his fituation which led him inlenfibly to his 
laft fatal cataftrophe. 

On his leaving Weft Ham he removed to a houfe in 
Southampton Row, and at the fame time launched out 
into fcenes of expence, which his income, by this time 
not a imall one, was unequal to iupport. He provided 
himfelf with a country- houfe at Ealing, and exchanged 
his chariot for a coach, in order to accommodate his pu- 
pils, who, befides his noble charge, were in general per- 
fons of family and fortune. About the fame time it was 

hi* 



WILLIAM DODD, LL. D. . ix 

his misfortune to obtain a prize of ioool. in the ftate 
lottery. Elated with this fuccefs, he engaged with a 
builder in a plan to erecl a chapel near the palace of the 
Queen, from whom it took its name. He entered alfo 
into a like partner/hip at Charlotte Chapel, Bloomfbury; 
and both thefe lchemes were for fome time very beneficial 
to him, tho' much inferior to his then expenfive habits 
of living. His expectations from the former of thefe un- 
dertakings were extremely fanguine. It is reported that, 
in fitting up his chapel near the palace, he flattered him- 
felf with the hopes of having fome young royal auditors, 
and in that expectation afligned a particular pew or gal- 
lery for the heir apparent. But in this, as in many 
other of his views, he was difappointed. 

In the year 1772 he obtained the reclory of Hocklifre, 
in Bedfordshire ; the firft cure of fouls he ever had. With 
this alfo he held the vicarage of Chalgrove ; and the two 
were foon after coniblidated. An accident happened 
about this time, from which he narrowly crfcaped with 
his life. Returning from his living, he was llopt near 
Pancras by a highwayman, who difcharged a piftol into 
the carriage, which happily, as it was then thought, 
only broke the glafs, For this fa6l the delinquent was 
tried, and, on Dr. Dodd's evidence, convicled and 
hanged. "Early in the next year Lord Chefterfieid died, 
and was fucceeded by our author's pupil, who appoint- 
ed his preceptor his chaplain. 

At this period Dr. Dodd appears to have been in the 
zenith of his popularity and reputation. Beloved and 
refpecled by all orders of people, he would have reach- 
ed, in all probability, the iituation which was the objecl: 
of his willies, had he poileiTed patience enough to have 
waited for it, and prudence fufncient to keep himfelf our of 
difficulties which might prove fatal to his integrity. But 
the habits of diflipation and expence had acquired too 
much influence over him, He had, by their means, in- 
volved himfelf in considerable debts. To extricate him- 
felf from them, he was tempted to an acl: which en- 
tirely cut off every hope he could entertain of rifing in, 

his 



: 






x THE LIFE OF 

his profefiion, and totally ruined him in the opinion of 
the world. On the tranflaxion of bifhop Mofs, in Fe- 
bniary 1774? to the fee of Bath and Wells, the valua- 
ble re&ory of St. George, Hanover- fqu are, fell to the 
difpofal of the Crown, by virtue of rhe King's prero- 
gative. Whether from the insertions of his own mind, 
©r from the perfuafion of fome friends, is uncertain ; but 
on this occafion he took a ftep of all others the meft wild 
and extrav v;anr, and leaft likely to be attended with fuc- 
cefs. He caufed an anonymous letter to be fent to Lady 
Apfley, offering the firm of 3000I, if by her means he 
could be p denied to the living. The letter was im- 
mediately communicated to the Chancellor, and, after 
being traced to the fender, < t; ^ c la d before his Majefty. 
The iniuk offered to fo high an » ?: cer by the propofal, 
was foli.owc ' ' inftant punifiiment. Dr. Dodd'stiame 
was ordered to be ftruck out ofthelift of chaplains. The 
prefs teemed with fatire and invective; he was abufed 
and ridiculed in + !>- papers or the day) and to crown 
the whole, the tranfaclian became afub/eft of entertain- 
ment in on- of Mn Foote's pieces at the Kaymarket, 

As ho expl >n could juftify -~ ibfurd a meafure, 
fo no apology co, 3 palliate it. An evafive letter in the 
fiewfpapers, promifing a '• ft Ification at a future day, was 
treated with univerfal contempt. Stung with remorfe, 
and feelingly alive to the difgrace he had brought on 
himfe;", he haftily quitted the place where neglect and 
injtult attended him, and went to Geneva to his pupil, 
who prefented him to the living of Winge, in Bucking- 
ham/hire, which he held, with HockiifFe, by virtue of a 
difpenfation. Though incumbered with debts, he might 
ftiii i 3 ye retrieved his circum'lances, if not his cha- 
racter, nad he attended to the Mens of prudence 3 but 
his extravagance con inued undiminifhed, and drove him 
to fcheiridi which overwhelmed him with additional in- 
famy . lie defcen A t/\ fo low as to become the editor of 
a newip per 3 and is faid to have attempted to difengage 
himfelf from his debts by 1 conrniifiion of bankruptcy, 
in which he failed. From this period every ftep led to 

complete 



WILLIAM DODD, IX. D. xl 

complete his ruin. In the fummer of 1776 he went to 
France, and, with little regard to decency, paraded it in 
a phaeton at the races on the Plains of Sablons, drefled 
in all the. foppery of the kingdom in which he then re- 
fided. He returned to England about the beginning of 
winter, and continued to exercife the duties of his func- 
tion, particularly at the Magdalen Chapel, where he ftili 
was heard with approbation, and where his laft fermon 
was preached February 2, 1777, two days only before 
he figned the fatal inftrument which brought him to an 
ignominious death. 

PrefTed at length by creditors, whofe importunities he 
was unable longer to foothe, he fell upon an expedient, 
from the confequences of which he could not efcape. He 
forged a bond, from his pupil Lord Chefterfield, for the 
fum of 4200I. and upon the credit of it obtained a con- 
fiderable fum of money. Detection of the fraud almoft 
immediately followed. He was taken before a magi- 
(Irate, and committed to prifon. At the feflions held at the 
Old Bailey, February 24, his trial commenced ; and the 
commiffion of the offence being clearly proved, he was 
pronounced guilty 5 but' the fentence was poflponed, un- 
til the fentiments of the judges could be taken refpecling 
the admiffibility of an evidence; whole teflimony had 
been made ufe of to convict him. 

This accident fufpended his fate until the enfuing 
feflion. In the mean time, the doubt which had been 
fuggefted, as to the validity of the evidence, was re- 
moved, by the unanimous opinion of the judges, that 
the teltimony of the perfon objecled to had been properly 
and legally received. This information was communi- 
cated to the criminal on the 12th of May; and on the 
26 th of the fame month he was brought to the bar, to 
receive his fentence. Being afked what he had to alledge 
why fentence of death fhould net be pronounced upon 
him, he addrefled the court in the following animated and 
pathetic fpeech, in the compofition of which he is faid to 
have been materially ailiited by a very eminent writer : 

" My 



viii THE LIFE OF 

" My Lord, 

" I now ftand before you a dreadful example of hu- 
man infirmity. I entered upon public life with the ex- 
pectations common to young men whofe education has 
been liberal, and whofe abilities have been flattered, and, 
when I became a clergyman, considered myfelf as not 
impairing the dignity of the order. I was not an idle, 
nor I hope, an ufelefs minifler. I taught the truths of 
Chriitianity with the zeal of conviction, and the autho- 
rity of innocence. My labours were improved, my pul- 
pit become popular ; and I have reafon to believe, that 
of thofe who heard me fome have been preferred from fin, 
and fome have been reclaimed. Condefcend, my 
Lord, to think, if thefe conliderations aggravate my 
crime, how much they muft embitter my punifhment. 

" Being diffinguifhed and elated by the confidence of 
mankind, I had too much confidence in myfelf: and 
thinking my integrity what others thought it, ertabliilied 
in fmceiity, and fortified by religion, I did not confider 
the danger of vanity, nor fufpect the deceitfulnefs of my 
own heart. The day of conflict came, in which tempta- 
tion furprifed and overwhelmed me. I committed the 
crime, which I entreat your lordfhip to believe that my 
confcience hourly reprefents to me in its full bulk of mif- 
chief and malignity. Many have been overpowered by 
temptation, who are now among the penitent in heaven, 

" To an act now waiting the decifion of vindica- 
tive juftice, I will not prefume to oppofe the counterba- 
lance of almorr. thirty years (a great part of the life of 
man) palTed in exciting and exercinng charity 5 in reliev- 
ing fuch diflrefTes as 1 now feel, in adminiltering thofe 
confolations which I now want. I will not otherwife 
extenuate my offence, than by declaring, what many cir- 
cumftances make probable, that I did not intend to be 
finally fraudulent. Nor will it become me to apportion 
my punimment, by alledging that my fufferings have been 
not much lefs than my guilt. I have fallen from repugn 
tation, which ought to have made me cautious j and from 
a fortune, which ought to have given me content, I 'am 

funk 



WILLIAM DODD, LL. D. ix 

funk at once into poverty and (corn 5 my name and my 
crime fill the ballads in the fcreet, the fport of the 
thoughtlefs, and the triumph of the wicked. 

" It may feem ftrange that, remembering what I have 
lately been, I mould wifh to continue what I am. But 
contempt of death, how fpecioufly foever it might min- 
gle with Heathen virtues, has nothing fuitable to 
Chniiian penitence. Many motives impel me to beg 
earnciily for life. I feel the natural horror of a violent 
death, and the univerfal dread of untimely dirToiution, 
I am defirous of recompensing the injury I have done to 
the clergy, to the world, and to religion, and to efface 
the fcandal of my crime by the example of my repen- 
tance. But, above all, I wi/h to die with thoughts 
more compoftd, and calmer preparation. The gloom 
of a prilbn, the anxiety of a trial, and the inevitable 
viciflitudes. of pafTion, leave the mind little difpofed to 
the holy exerches of prayer and felf-examination. Let 
not a little time be denied me, in which I may, by me- 
ditation and contrition, be prepared to Hand at the tri- 
bunal of Omnipotence, and fupport the prefence of that 
Judge who (hall diftribwte to all according to their 
works, who will receive to pardon the repenting finner, 
and from -whom the merciful (hall obtain "mercy. 

Ci For thefe reafons, ami J. ft fharne and mifery, I yet 
w'.ih to live : and moft humbly intreat, that I may be 
recommended by your Lordfhip to the clemency of his 
Baafefty." 

Having made this fpeech to the Court, the Doclor, 
with two other capital convicts, received fentence of 
death. 

From this time the friends of Dr. Dodd were aflidu- 
cufiy employed in endeavouring to fave his life. Be- 
fides the petitions of many individuals, the members of 
thi feverai charities which had been benefited by him, 
joined in applications to the Throne for mercy : the 
^City of London likewife, in its corporate capacity, 
^Bkited a remiflion of the punifhment, in conlideratiou 
^Rhe advantages which the public had derived from 

his 



xli THE LIFE OF 

his various and laudable exertions. The petitions were 
fuppofed to be figned by near thirty thoufand perfons. 
They were however of no avail. On the fifteenth of June 
the Privy Council afTembled, and deliberated on the 
cafes of the feveral prifoners then under condemnation 5 and 
in the end a warrant was ordered to be made out for the 
execution of Dr. Dodd, on the 27th of the fame month. 

On the day preceding that of his excution he took 
leave of his wife and fome friends, after which he de- 
clared himielf ready to atone for the offence he had given 
to the world. 

He published many productions both in profe and 
verfe ; among which, that particularly noticed is his 
Novel, intituled " The Sifters," a work calculated to 
promote morality, and at the fame time furnifh the rea- 
der both with entertainment and initruclicn. His re- 
ligious tra<5ls are admirable, and his political produc- 
tions pointed with very fevere fatire. 

Of his behaviour at this awful juncture, a particu- 
lar, account was given by Mr. Villette, ordinary of 
Newgate, in the following terms : 

" On the morning of his death I went to him with 
the Rev. Mr. Dobey, chaplain of the Magdalen, whom 
he had defired to attend him to the place of execution. 
He appeared compoied 5 and when I aiked him how he 
had been fupported, he faid he had had fome comforta- 
ble fieep, by which he mould be the better enabled to 
perform his duty. 

" As we went from his room in our way to the cha- 
pel, we were joined by his friend, who had fpent the 
foregoing evening with him, and alfo by another cler- 
gyman. When we were in the veftry adjoining to the 
chapel, he exhorted his fellow- fufferer, who had at- 
tempted to deftroy himfelf, but had been prevented by 
the vigilance of the keeper. He fpoke to him with 
great tendernefs and emotion of heart, entreating him to 
confider that he had but a fhort time to live, and that 
it was highly neceffary that he as well as himielf, made 
good uie of their time, implored pardon of God under a 

deep 



WILLIAM DODD, LL; D. xiii 

deep fenfe of fin, and looked to that Lord by whofe me- 
rits alone finners could be laved. He defired me to call 
in the other gentleman, who likewife aiMed him to 
move the heart of the poor youth: but the Doctor's 
words were the rnofr. pathetic and effectual. He lifted 
up his hands, and cried out, * O Lord Jefus, have mercy 
on us, and give, O give unto him, my fellow-finner, 
that as we fuffer together, we may go together to hea- 
ven!* His conversation to this poor youth was fo mov- 
ing, that tears flowed from the eyes of all prefenu 

u He prayed God to blefs his friends who were pre- 
sent with him, and to give his blefnngs to all his bre- . 
thren the clergy ; that he would pour out his Spirit 
upon them, and make them true minifters of Jefus 
Chrift, and that they might follow the divine precepts 
of their heavenly Matter. Turning to one who Hood 
near him, he ftretched out his hand, and faid, Now, my 
dear friend, {peculation is at an end; all rauft be real! 
what poor ignorant beings we are ! He prayed for the 
Magdalens, and wifhed they were there, to fing for him 
the 23d Pfaim. 

u After he had waited fome time for the officers, lie 
afked what o'clock it was ; and being told that it was 
half an hour after eight, he faid, 'I wifti they were 
ready, for I long to be gone.'* .He reqnefted of his 
friends, who were in tears about him, to pray for him; 
to which he was anfwered by two of them, — We pray 
more than language can utter. He replied, ' I believe it.' 

" At length he was fummoned to go down in':o a part 
of the yard which is inclol'ed from the reft of the goal, 
where the two unhappy convicts and the friends of the 
Doctor were alone. On his feeing two prifoners look- 
ing out of the windows, he went to them and exhorted 
them fo pathetically, that they both wept abundantly. 
He faid once, * I am now a fpectacle to men, and ilia.ll 
toon be a fpectacle to angels.' 

" J u ft before the fherifPs officers cnme with the hal- 
ters, one who was walking with him told him that there 
was yet a little folemnity he muft pafs through before 

he 



xiv THE LIFE, Sec. 

he went out. He aiked, c What is that?' < You will be 
bound. 1 He looked up, and (aid, ' Yet I am free; my 
freedom is there, 1 pointing .upwards. -^-He bore it with 
Chriftian patience, and beyond what might be expected $ 
and when the men offered to excufe tying his hands, he 
deiired them to do their duty, and thanked them for their 
kindnefs. After he was bound, I offered to afliii Kim 
with my arm in conducting him through the yard, where 
fibverai people were ailembled to fee him j but here- 
plied, e No, I am as firm as a rock.'— As he paff.d 
along the yard, the {peculators and prifoners wept and 
bemoaned him ; and he, in return, prayed God to bids 
them . 

" On the way to execution he confoled himfelf in 
reflecting and fpeaking on what Chrift had fuffered for 
him : lamenting the depravity of human nature, which 
made fanguinary laws neceffaryj aad laid he could 
lly have QLrd in the priibn-yard, as being led out 
to public execution tended greatly to diftrefs him. He 
ed me to read to him the 51ft. Pfalm, and alio 
pointed out an admirable penitential prayer from Rol- 
lers Priibner's Director. He prayed again for the 
King and iikewiie for the people. 

" When he came near the ftreet where he formerly 
dwelt, he was much affected, and wept. He fa id pro- 
v his tears would feem to be the effect of cowar- 
dice, but it was a weaknefs he could not well help ; 
and added, he hoped he was going to a better home. 

44 When he arrived at the gallows, he aicended the 
cart, and {poke to his feilow-iuiterer. He then prayed, 
not only for himfelf, but alio tor his w re, and the un- 
fortunate youth that fuffered with him -, and declaring 
that he dkd in the true faith of the gofpel of Chrift, 
in per eel love and chanty with all mankind, and 
with thankfulnefs to his friends, he was launched into 
eternity, emploring mercy for his foul for the iakc of 
bis bleffed Redeemer. " 

His corpfe, on the Monday following, was carried 
to Cowley, in Buckinghamshire, and depofite \ m the 
chinch there. THOUGHTS 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

COMMENCED 

SUNDAY EVENING, EIGHT O'CLOCK.* Feb. 23, 1777* 



NT 



WEEK THE FIRST. 

The Imprisonment. 

FY friends are gone ! Harfn on its full en hinge 
Grates the dread door : the malYy bolts refpond 
Tremendous to the furely keeper's touch. 
The dire keys clang, with movement dull and flow 
While their belief! the ponderous locks perform 5 
And fattened firm, the objecl of their care 
Is left to folitude, — to forrow left ! 

But wherefore fattened ? Oh ftill ttronger bonds 
Than bolts, or locks, or doors of molten brafs, 
To folitude and forrow would confign 
His anguiuYd foul, and prifon him, tho' free! 
For, whither mould he fly, or where produce 
In open day, and to the golden fun, 
His haplefs head ! whence every laurel torn, 
On his bald brow fits grinning Infamy ; 
And all in fportive triumph twines around 
The keen, the flinging adders of difgrace! 

Yet what's difgrace with man ? or all the ftings 
Of pointed fcorn ? What the tumultuous voice 
Of erring multitudes ? Or what the marts 
Of keenett malice, levell'd from the bow 
Of human inquifition ? — if the God, 
Who knows the heart, looks with complacence down 
Upon the ftruggling victim, and beholds 
Repentance burfting from the earth-bent eye, 
And faith's red crofs held clofely to the breaft ? 

Oh Author of my being ! of my blifs 
Beneficent Difpenfer! wondrous power, 
Whofe eye, all-fearching thro' this dreary gloom 
Difcerns the deepeft fecreets of the foul, 

• The hour when they lock up in this difmal place, 

B Aflift 



3 THOUGHTS 1ft PRISON". 

Ai'iift me ! With thy ray of light divine 
Illumine my dark thoughts $ upraife my low 5 
And give me wifdom's guidance, while I ftrive 
Impartially to ftate the dread account, 
And call myielf to trial ! Trial far 
Than that more fearful*— tho" how fearful that 
Which trembling late I proved ! Oh aid my hand 
To hold the balance equal, and allow 
^he few fad moments of remaining life 
To retrofpeclion nfefu! - f make my end, 
As my firft wifh (thou know'ft the heart) has beeiij 
To make my whole of being to my friends, 
My fellow-pilgrims thro' this world of woe, 
Inductive !-*■— Oh could I conducl but one, 
One only with me, to our Canaan's reft, 
How could I meet my fate, nor think it hard f 

Not think it hard ?— -Burft into tears, my foul 5 
Guih every pore of my diffracted frame, 
Gufh into drops of blood !*- -But one j lave one, 
Or guide to Canaan's reft ? — when all thy views 
In better days were dedicate alone 
To guide, perfuade to that celeftiat reft* 
Souls which have liftened with devotion's ear 
To Sion's longs enchanting from thy lips, 
And tidings fweet of jefu's pardoning love ! 

But one, fave oner — Oh, what a reft is this! 
Oh what a Sabbath in this dungeon's gloom, 
This prifon-houfe, meet emblem of the realm 
Referv'd for the ungodly ! Hark, methinks 
I hear the cheerful melody of praife 
And -penitential fweetaefs* ! *Tis the found r 
The well-known (bund, to which my foul, attun'd 
For year fucceeding year, hath hearken'd glad, 
And ftill with frefh delight i while all my powers 
In bfceft employ have pre ft the faving truths 
Of grace divine, and faith's all- conquering might, 
On the fure Rock of Ages grounded firm. 

Thofe. hours are gone! and here, from heaven fhut out, 

* Mfcrriag roWe ittwdiafcely t$ she dviry ©f the Magdaleu chapel. 

And 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. | 

And heavenly works like thefe on this lov*d day, 

Reft of my God, — I only hear around 

The difmal clang of chains j the hoarfe rough fliput 

Of diffonant imprecation ; and the cry 

Of mifery and vice, in fearful din 

Impetuous mingled • while mv frighted mind 

Shrinks back in horror ! while the fcalding tears 

Involuntary ftarting, furrow down 

My fickly cheeks ; and whirling thought confus'd 

For giddy moments, icarce allows to know 

Or where, or who, or what a wretch I am { . 

Not know ?— ^ Alas \ too well it ftrikes my heart, 
Emphatieal it fpjaks ! while dungeons, chains, 
And bars and bolts proclaim the mournful truth, 
" Ah what a wretch thou art I how funk, how fall'in 
tc # From what high ftate of blifs, into what woei- " 
Fairn from the topm£>ft bough that plays in air 
E"en of the talleft cedar ; where aloft 
Proud happinefs her towering eyrie built j 
Built, as I dreamt, for ages. Idle dream? 
And yet, amongft the. millions of mankind, 
Who fleep like me, how few, like me deceived, 
Do not indulge the fame fantaftic dream ! 

Give me the angel's clarion i— Let me found, 
Loud as the blaft which mail awake the dead 5 
Oh let me found, and call the {lumberers forth 
To view the vifion which delufion charms j 
To make the potent incantation off 5 
Or ere it burft in ruin on their fouls, 
As it has burft on mine.— Not on my foul ! 
Retract the dread idea : Righteous God ! 
Not on my foul! Gh Thou art gracious all, 
And with an eye of pity \frdm thy throne 
Of Majefty fupernal, thou behold'ft 
The creatures of thy hand, thy feeble fons, 
Struggling with fin, with Satan, and the world, 
Their (worn and deadly foes : and, having felt 
In human fleih the trials of our kind, 

* Milton's Par. Loft, B. 5 . p. 540, 

B % ' Know'ii 



4 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Know*ft fym pathetic how to aid the tried ! 

Rock of* my hope ! the ram, ram phrafe forgive ; 
Safe is my foul ; nor can it know one fear, 
Grounded on Thee Unchangeable ? Thee firft, 
Thee laft, great Cleanfer of all human fin ! 

But, tho' fecure the veflel rides in port, 
Held firm by faith's flrong anchor,— well it fuits 
The mariner to think by what ftrange means 
Thro" perils unconceivable he pafsM ; 
Thro'' rocks, lands, pirates, ftorms, and boifterous waves, 
And happily obtain'd that port at laft. 
' On thefe my thoughts are bent : nor deem it wrong, 
MinirVring angels ! whofe benignant tafk 
Afiigii'd by Heav'n, is to confole diftrefs, 
And hold up human hearts admift the toil 
Of human woe* ! — Bleft fpirits, who delight 
In fweet fubmiffive refignat ion's fmile, 
To that high will you know for ever right ; — 
Deem it not wrong, that with a weeping eye, 
Deem it not wrong, that with a bleeding heart, 
I dwell a while, unworthieft of my race, 
On thofe black rocks, thofe quick-fands, waves and florin, 
"Which in a fea of trouble have engulph'd 
All, all my earthly comforts 5 and have left 
Me, a poor naked, fhipwreck'd, luffering wretch 
On this bleak fhore, in this confinement drear 5 
At fight of which, in better days, my foul 
Hath ftarted back with horror! while my friend, 
My bofom- partner in each hour of pain, 
With antidotes preventive kindly arm'd, 
Trembling for my lov'd health j when chriftian calls 
And zeal for others welfare, haply brought 
My fteps attendant on this den of death ! 

Oh difmal change ! Now, not in friendly fort 
A chriftian-vifitoijft^poiir the balm 
Of chriftian comfort in fome wretch's ear, — 
I am that wretch myfplf ! and want, much want, 
The chriftian confolation I beftow'd 5 

* See Pfalm xxxiv. 7. Heb. i. 14- 



THOUGHTS IN. PRISON. 5 

So cheerfully beftow'd ! want, want, my God, 
From Thee the mercy, from my fellow-man 
The lenient mercy, which, grtat Judge of hearts, 
To Thee I make the folemn, fad appeals 
That mercy, which Thou knoweft my gladfome foul 
Ever fprang forth with tranfport to impart! 

■Why then, myfterious providence! purfued 
With Inch unfeeling ardour ? why purfued 
To death's dread bourn, by men to me unknown! 
Why— *Stop the deep queftion ; il overwhelms my foul | 
It reels, it ftraggers !— -Earth turns round ! my brain 
Whirls in confufion! my impetuous heart 
Throbs with pulfations not to be reftrain'd ; 
Why ?— * where ?•— ^Oh Chefterfield ! my fon, my foil ! 

Nay, talk not of compofure ! I had thought 
In olden time, that my weak heart was foft, 
And pity^'s fejf might break it.— rl had thought 
That marble-eyed feverity would crack 
The (lender nerves which guide my reins of fenfe, 
And give me up to madneis. *Tis not fo : 
My heart is callous, and my nerves are tough : 
It will not break ! they will not. crack ; or elfe 
What more, juft Heaven, was wanting to the deed, 
Than to behold — -Oh that eternal night 
Had in that moment fcreen'd me from myfelf !-*-j 
My Stanhope to behold, whofe filial ear 
Drank pleas'd the lore of wifdom from my tongue. 
My Stanhope to behold !— rAh piercing fight! 
Forget it 5— /tis diftraciion : — -Speak who can \ 

But I am loft ! a criminal adjudgM ! 
A guilty mifcreant ! Canft thou think, my friend, 
Oh Butler,— Sm id ft a million faithful found ! — ? 
Oh canft thou think, who know'ft, who long haft know!) 
My inmofl foul 5 oh canft thou think that life 
Fjrom fuch rude outrage for a moment fav'd, 
And fav'd almoft by a miracle *, deferves 

* Referring to the cafe referverl for the folemn «'ecifion of the twelve Judges, 
and which gave the prisoner a much longer fpace than his moft fanguina 
friends could have expected, from the complexion of the procefs. bee th* 
Seffious Pape? fcr Feb, 1 777, 

B 3 The 






6 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

The languid wifh, or e'er can be fuftain'd ? 

It can — it muft ! That miracle alone 

To life gives confeqnence. Oh deem it not 

Prelum ptuous, that my grateful fonl thus rates 

The prefent high deliverance it hath found j — 

Sole effort of thy wifdom, Sovereign Power, 

Without whole knowledge not a fparrow falls ! 

Oh may I ceafe to live, ere < eafe to blefs 

That interpofing hand, which turnM afide,— « 

Nay to my life and prefervation turn'd 

The fatal blow precipitate, oixhin'd 

To level all my little hopes in duft, 

And give me to the grave ! Rather, my hand, 

Forget thy cunning ! Rather mall my tongue 

In gloomy filer.ce bury every note 

To my glad heart refpcndent, than I eafe 

To dedicate to Him who fpar'd my life, 

Each breath, each power, while He vouchfafes to lend 

The precious boon ! — To Him be all its praife! 

To Him be all its fervice! Long or fhort, 

The gift's the fame : to live or die to him 

Is gain fufncient, everlafting gain : 

And may that gain be mine ! I live, I live ! 

Ye hours, ye minutes, bounty of his grace, 

Fleet not away without improvement due : 

Rich on your wings bear penitence and prayer 

To Heavn's all-clement Ruler ; and to man 

Bear all the retribution man can make ! 

Ye precious hours, ye moments fnatchM from death, 

Replete with incenie rife,— that my cheer'd foul 

When comes the folemn call, may fpring away, 

Delighted, to the bofom of its God ! 

Who mail condemn the tiuft ?— proud rationals 

(That deep in (peculation's 'wildering maze 

Bemufe themfelves with error, and confound 

The laws of men, of nature, and of Heaven) 

Prefumptuous in their wifdom, dare dethrone 

Even from his works the Maker: and contend, 

That He who form'd it governs not the world : 

While, fteep'd in fenfe's Lethe, fons of earth From 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. J 

From the world's partial picture gaily draw 
Their mad conclusions. Bold broad-ftaring vice, 
Luird on the lap of every mundane blifs, 
At meek-eyed virtue's patient flittering feoffs, 
And dares with dauntlefs infolence the God, 
Regardlefs of his votaries ! — Vain and blind ! 
Alike thro' wifdom or thro' folly blind — 
Whofe dim contracted view the petty round, 
The mere horizon of the preient hour 
In darknefs terminates ! Oh could I ope 
The golden portals of eternal day ; 
Pour on your fight the congregated blaze 
Of light, of wifdom, burfting from the throne 
Of univerfal glory; on the round, 
The boundlefs cycle of His moral plan, 
Who, hid in clouds terrific, Matter fits 
Of fubjecl men and worlds j and fees at once 
The ample fcene of prefent, future, part, 
All naked to his eye of flame : — all rang'd 
In harmony complete, to work his will, 
And finiih with the plaudit of the ikies ! 

But — while the whelming blazon may not burn: 
On the weak eyes of mortals ; while confined 
Thro' dark dim glafs, with dark dim fight to look 
All trembling to the future, and collect 
The fcatter'd rays of wifdom 5 while referr'd 
Our infant reafon to the guiding hand 
Of faith ftrong-eyed, which never quits the view 
Of Jefus, her great pole-ftar ; from whofe word, 
Irradiate with the luttre of his love, 
She learns the mighty Matter to explore 
In all his works ; and from the meaneft taught 
Beholds the God, the Father,-— Scorn ye not, 
My fellow-pilgrims, fellow-heirs of death, 
And, oh triumphant thought ! — my fellow-heirs 
Of life immortal j — if not fold to fenfe 
And infidelity's black caufe, you cart 
Ungracious from yourfelves the proffer 'd boon : 
—Then fcorn not, oh my friends, when Heaven vouchfafes 

To 



— 



I THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

To teach by meaner! objecls, reptiles, birds, 
«*— To take one lefTon from a worm like me I 
Proof of a spacious providence I live J—?' 
To him be all the glory ! Of his care 
Paternal, his fuppcrting hgnal love, 
I lire each hour an argument. Away, 
The fyftematic dullnefs of difpute! 
Away, each doating reafoner !^-^I feel, 
Feel in my inmoif heart the confcious ienfe$ 
The grateful prefiure of diftinguifVd grace, 
And live, and only wifh for life to praife it ! 

For fay, my foul,^nor midir. this filence fad. 
This midnight, awful, melancholy gloom, 
Nor in this folemn moment of account 
'Twixt thee and Heaven, — when on his altar lies 
A facrifice thy naked bleeding heart ! 
Say, nor, felf- Mattering, to thy confcience hold 
The mirror of deceit; — .cculdft thou have thought 
Thy nerves, thy head, thy heart, thy frame, thy fenfe, 
Sufficient to fiiftairi the fudden mock? 
Rude as a bnrfting earthquake, which at once 
ToppKd the happy edifice adown, 
Yvhelnvd thee and thine beneath its ruinous cram, 
And hurried all in forrow r — ?Torn away 
Impetuous from thy home, thy much lov'd home. 
Without one moment to reflection giv'n I 
By Toothing fclemn promife led to place 
Ingenuous all thy confidence of life 
In men, affuming gentle pity's guile ! 
Vain confidence m aught beneath the fun ! 
Behold the hour, the dreadful hour arrived : 
The prifon opes its ruthlels gates, upon thee! 

Oh Horror! But what's this, this frtfh attack! 
^Tis (he, 'tis me! my weeping fainting wife! 
ic And hafc thou faithful found me ? Has thy love 
<< Thus burlt thro' evhy barrier? Haft thou trae'd 
ec — Deoreit in health, and timid as thou art — 
(< At midnight tracM the defoiate wild ftreets ? 
: - Thus. in a prifon's sdoom to throw thy arms 

' * - ' ' * « Of 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 9 

ss Of conjugal endearment round the neck 
M Of thy loft huiband ? — Fate, exacl thy worftj 
" The bitternefs is pad." — Idea vain ! 
To tenfold bitternefs drench'd in my deep cup 
Of gall the morning rifes ? Statue like, 
Inanimate, half dead, and fainting half, 
To ftand a fpeclacle ! — the praeter ftern 
Denying to my pleading tears one pang 
Of human lympathy ! Conducted forth, 
Amid ft th' unfeeling populace ; purfued 
Like fome deer, which from the hunter's aim 
Hath ta'en its deadly hurt ; and glad to find- 
Panting with woe, — my refuge in a gaol ! 
Can mifeiy ftretch more tight the torturing cord ? 
But hence this foftnefs ! Wherefore thus lament 
Thefe petty, poor efcutcheons of thy fate, 
When lies — all worthy of thyfelf and life, 
Cold in the hearfe of ruin ? — Rather turn 
Grateful thine eyes, and raife, tho' red with tears, 
To his high throne who looks on thy diftrefs 
With fatherly companion ; kindly throws 
Sweet comfort's mixture in thy cup, and foothes 
With Gilead's balm thy death-wound. He it is 
Who, 'mid ft the (hock disrupting, holds in health 
Thy fhatter'd frame, and keeps thy reafon clear j 
He, He it is, whofe pitying power fupports 
Thy humbled foul, deep humbled in the duft, 
Beneath the fenfe of guilt; the mournful fenfe 
Of deep tranfgrefnon 'gain ft thy fellow-men, 
Of fad offence 'gainft Him, thy Father God ; 
Who, lavifh in his bounties, woo'd thy heart 
With each paternal bl effing; — ah ingrate, 
And worthlefs! Yet — (His mercies who can count, 
Or truly fpeak his praife !) — Yet thro' this gloom 
Of felf- convict ion, lowly He vouchfafes 
To dart a ray of comfort, like the Sun's, 
All-cheering thro' a fummer's evening mower 1 
Arch'd in h;s gorgeous iky, I view the Bow, 
Of grace nVd emblem ! 'Tis that grace alone 

Which 



IO THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Which gives my foul its firmnefs ; builds my hope 
Beyond the grave ; and bids me fpurn the earth I 

Firftof all hledlngs, hail ! Yet Thou, from whom 
Both firft and lair, both great and fmall proceed $ 
Exhaultlefs fource of every good to man, 
Accept for all, the tribute of my praife ; 
For all are thine! — Thine the ingenuous friends, 
Who folace with compafTion fweet my woe ; 
Mingle with mine,their fvmpathetic tears j 
IncelTant and diimterefted toil 
To work my weal ; and, delicately kind, 
Watch every keener fenfibility 
That lives about my foul. Oh, more than friends, 
In tendernefs my children! — Thine are too 
The very keepers of the rugged jail, 
—111 ichool to learn hu inanity "s foft lore !— » 
Yet here humanity their duty pays, x 

Refpe&ably affecting ! Whi'lft they tend 
My little wants, officious in their zeal, 
They turn away, and fain would hide the tear 
That gufties all unbidden to their eye, 
And fanclifies their fervice. — On their heads 
Thy blclTing, Lord of Bounty ! — — — - 

But, of all, 

All thy choice comforts in this drear diftreVs, 

God of our firft young love ! Thine is the Wife, 

Who with afliduous care, from night to morn, 

From mom to night, watches my every need j 

And, as in brighten 1 davs of peace and joy, 

Smiles on my anguifh, while her own poor breaft 

Is full almoft to bnrfting! Proftrate, Lord, 

Before thy footftool— Thou, whole higheft ityle 

On earth, in heaven, is love! — Thou, who hall breath'4 

Thro* human hearts the tender charities, 

The focial fond affections which unite 

In bonds of iweeteft amity thole hearts, 

And guide to every good ! — -Thou, whofe kind eye 

Complacent mud behold the rich, ripe fruit, 

Mature and mellow'd on the generous flock 

Of 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. XI 

Of thy own careful planting !— Low on earth, 
And mingled with my native dull, I cry ; 
With all the HufoancTs anxious fondnefs cry 3 
With all the friend's folicitude and truth 5 
With all the teacher's fervour, — u God of Love, 
**' Vouchfafe thy choicer! comforts on her head I 
" Be thine my fate's deciiion : To thy will 
" With angel-refignation, lo! we bend!" 

But hark ! what found, wounding the night's dull ear 3 
Burfts fudden on my fenfe, and makes more horrible 
Thefe midnight horrors ? — 'Tis the folemn bell, 
Alarum to the prifoners of death* ! — 
Hark ! what a groan, refponfive from the cells 
Of condemnation, caUs upon my heart, 
My thrilling lie-art, for interceflion ftrong> 
And pleadings in the fufferer's behalf — 
My fellow-fufferers, and my fellow -men ! 

Ceafe then awhile the ftrain, my plaintive foul. 
And veil thy face of forrow! Lonely hours 
Soon will return thee to thy midnight talk, 
For much remains to fing, fad themes, unfung, 
As deemM perchance too mournful 5 — yet, what elfc 
Than themes like thefe can fuit a mufe like mine ', 
—And might it be, that while ingenuous woe 
Bleeds thro' my verfe 5 while the fucceeding page 
Weaving with my fad ftory the detail 
Of crimes, of punimments, of prifens drear, 
Of prefent life and future,— fad difcourfe 
And ferious mail contain 5 Oh might it be, 
That human hearts may liften and improve ; 
O might it be, that benefit to fouls 
Flow from the weeping tablet ; tho' the Maa 
In torture die, — the Painter fhall rejoice ! 

Sunday, March 2, 1777. 

END OF THE FIRST WEE£. 

• This alludes to a very ttriking and awful circumftance. The Bellsttan »f 
St. Sepulchre's near the pt-ifon, is by lone and pious cuftom appointed to an* 
bounce at midnight to the condenm»d criminal* Ul their cella, that the houf 
•j their Ucpajrtvre i% at hanj » 

WEEK 



IS THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

WEEK THE SECOND. 

The Retrofpeft. — Sunday, March 2, 1777. 
{^\H, not that thou goeft hence — fweet drooping flower, 
^Surcharg'd with Sorrow's dew! — Not that thou quitt'il 
This pent and feverifh gloom, which beams with light, 
With health, with comfort, by thy prefence cheer'd, 
Companion of my life, and of my woes 
Bleft toother! not that thou goeft hence to drink 
A purer air, and gather from the breath 
Of balmy fpring new fuccour, to recruit 
Thy wanning health, and aid thee to fuftain, 
With more than manly fortitude, thy own 
And my affiiftive trials ! Not that here, 
Amidft the glories of this genial day, 
Immur'd, thro' iron bars I peep at Heaven, 
With dim, lack luftre eye ! — Oh, 'tis not this 
That drives the poifon'd point of torturous thought 
Deep to my fpring of life i It is not this 
That proftrate lays me weeping in the duft, 
And draws in fobs the life-blood from my heart! 
\Vell could I bear thy abfence : well, full well 5 
Tho' angel- comforts in thy converfe fmile, 
And make my dungeon Paradife ! — Full well 
Could I fuftain thro' iron bars to view 
The golden Sun, in bridegroom- majefty 
Taking benignant nature to his love, 
And decking her with bounties ! Well, very well 
Could I forego the delicate delight 
Of tracing nature's germens, ?s they bud ; 
Of viewing fpring's fir ft children, as they rife 
In innocent iweetnefs, or beneath the thorn 
In rural privacy ; or on gay parterre 
More artful, lefs enchanting! — Well, very well 
Could I forego to lirlen, — in this houfe 
Of unremitted din, — and nought complain j 
To liften, as I oft have flood with thee 
Liftening in fond endearment to the voice 
Of Hock-dove, thro' the filence of the wood 

Hoarfe 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 13 

Hoarfe murmuring : — Well, oh could I forego 

Thefe innocent, tho' exquiiite delights, 

Still new, and to my bofom ftill attun'd 

In moral, mental melody ! — Sweet Spring ! 

Well could I bear this fad exile, from Thee, 

Nor drop one tear reluctant : for my foul, 

Strong to fuperior feelings, foars aloft 

To eminence of mifery ! — Confin'd 

On this blefsM day — the Sabbath of my God ! 

— Not from his Houfe alone, not from the power 

Of joyful worihip with arTembling crowds *, 

But from the labours once fo amply mine, 

The labours of his love. Now, laid aiide, 

Cover'd my head with ignominious duft, 

My voice is ftopp'd ! and, had I e'en the power, 

Strong fhame, and ftronger grief would to that voice 

Forbid all utterance I — Ah, thrice haplefs voice, 

By Heaven's own finger all indulgent tuned 

To touch the heart, and win th' attentive foul 

To love of truth divine, how ufelefs now, 

How dirTonant, unftrung! — Like Salem' harps 

Once fraught with richeft harmony of praiie, 

Hunjy in fad iilence by Euphrates' dream, 

Upon the mournful willows ! There they wept, 

Thy captive people wept, O God ! — when thought 

To bitter memory recall'*! the fongs, 

The dulcet fongs of Sion ! Oh bled longs, 

Tranfporting chorus of united hearts, 

In cheerful mulic mounting to the praife 

Of Sion's King of Glory ! — Oh the joy 

Tranfcendant, of petitions wing'd aloft 

With fervour irreliitible from throngs 

Afiembled in thy earthly courts, dread King 

Of all-dependant nature I — looking up 

For all to Thee, as do the fervants eyes 

Up to their foftering Mafterl Joy of joys, 

Am id it fuch throng' d affemblies to ftand forth, 

To blow the Silver Trumpet of thy Grace j 

* See pfalm lxxxir. 

C The 



14- THOUGHTS IN PRISON, 

The gladfome year of jubilee to proclaim, 
And offer to the aching tinner's heart 
Redemption's healing mercies ! And methinks 
( — -Indulge the pleating reverie, my foul ! 
The waking dream, which in oblivion iweet 
Lulls thy o'eriabour'd fenfe!) methinks, convey* d 
To Ham's lov'd fhades,— <iear favourite (hades, by 
And pure religion fanclify'd, — I hear [peace 

The tuneful bells their hallow'd meflage found 
To Chriftian hearts fymphonious ! Circling time 
Once more hath happily brought round the day 
Which calls us to the Temple of our God : 
Then let us hafte, in decent neatnefs clad, 
My cheerful little houiehold, to his courts, 
So icv'd, fo truly honourd ! There we'll mix 
In meek, ingenuous deprecation's cry ; 
There we'll unite in full thankfgiving's choir* 
And all the rich melodioufnefs of praife, 
I feel, I feel the rapture ! David's harp 
Concordant with a thoufand voices founds j 
Prayer mounts exulting : Man afcends the ikies 
On wings of angel-fervour ! Holy writ 
Or fpeaks the wonders of Jehovah's power, 
Or tells, in more than mortal majeity, 
The greater wonders of his love to man ! 
Proofs of that love, fee where the myftic hgns, 
High emblems of unutterable grace, 
Confirm to man the zeal of Heaven to favej 
And call to gratitude's bell office 1 

W u*~ . Wife 

In all thy iacred inftitutions, Lord, 

Thy Sabbaths with peculiar wifdom fhinej 

Firfi: and hi^h argument, creation done, 

Of thy benign folicitude for man, 

Thy chiefeft, favourite creature. Time is thine j 

How juft to claim a part, who giv^t the whole J 

But oh, how gracious, to aflign that part 

To man's fupreme behoof, his foul's be& good j 

His mortal and his mental benefit ; 

His body's genial comfort ! Savage elfe, Ua* 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON, 1$ 

Untaught , undifciplhVd, in ftaggy pride 
HeM rovM the wild, amidft the brutes a brute 
Ferocious ; to the loft civilities 
Of cultivated life, Religion, Truth, 
A barbarous Granger. To thy Sabbaths thea 
All hail, wife Legiflator t 'Tis to thefe 
We owe at once the memory of thy works, 
Thy mighty works of nature and of grace j— 
We owe divine religion ; and to thefe 
The decent comelineis of focial life. 

Revere, ye earthly magiftrates, who wield 
The fvvord of Heaven,— -the wifdom of Heaven's plan* 
And fanclify the Sabbaths of your God ! 
Religion's all j With that or {lands or falls 
Your country's weal 1 but where mall me obtain, 
-^Religion, fainted pilgrim ,— -(belter fare, 
Or honourable greeting; — thro' the land, 
If led by high and low, in giddy dance, 
Mad profanation on the f acred day 
Of God's appointed reft, her revel-rout 
Inliiltiilg heads, and leaves the temple void ? 
H'Ohj my lov'd country ! oh, ye thoughtlefs grsa*, 
Intoxicate with draughts, that opium-like 
For trahfient moments ftupify the mind, 
To wake in horrors, and confunon wild !— 

But fort, and know thyielf i 'Tis not for thee, 
Poor deftitute 1 thus groveling in the dug 
Or feif- annihilation, to affume 
The Cenibr's office, and reprove mankind. 
Ah me,** thy day of duty is declined ! 
ThoUj rather, to the quick probe thine own wounds, 
And plead for mercy at the judgment- feat, 
Where Conscience fmites thee for th* offence deplor'd, 

Yet not prelum ptuous deem it, Arbiter 
Or human thoughts., that through the long, long gloom 
Of multiply'd tranigreflions, I behold 
Complacent fouling on my fickening foul, 
" Delight in thy lovM Sabbaths !" Well Thou know'ft— 
For thou knoweft ail things, — that the oheeiiuji found 

c % or 



l6 THOUGHTS IN PRISON, 

Of that bleft day's return, for circling weeks, 
For months, for years, for more than thrice feven years, 
Was mufic to my heart ! My feet rejoic'd 
To bear me to thy temples, haply fraught 
With Comfort's tidings ; with thy gofpel's truth, 
The goipel of thy peace ! Oh, well Thou know'ft, 
Who k no weft all things, with what welcome toil, 
What plealing affiduity I fearch'd 
Thy heavenly word, to learn thy heavenly will ; 
That faithful I might minifter its truth, 
And of the high commifiion nought keep back 
From the great congregation * 1 Well thou know'fr, 
— Sole, facred Witnefs of my private hours,— 
How copioufiy I bath'd with pleading tears, 
How earneftly in prayer confign'd to Thee 
The humble efforts of my trembling pen ; 
My beft, weak efforts in my Mailer's caule ; 
Weak as the feather Vainft the giant's fhield, 
Light as the gofmer floating on the wind, 
Without thy aid omnipotent ! Thou know^ft 
How anxious to improve in every grace, 
That befl to man's attention might commend 
Th' important meffage, ftudious I apply'd 
My feeble talents to the holy art 
Of fuafive elocution $ emulous 
Of every acquifition which might clothe 
In pureft dignity the pureft work, 
The firft, the higheft office man can bear, 
" The Meffenger of God ;" And well Thou know'ft, 
— For all the work, as all the praife is Thine— 
What fweet fuccefs accompanied the toil : 
What harvefts blefs'd the ieed-time ! Well Thou 
With what triumphant gladnefs my rapt foul [know'ft 
Wrought in the vineyard ! how it thankful bore 
The noon day's heat, the evening's chilly froft, 
Exuking in its much-loved Mafter's caufe 
To fpend, and to be fpent ! and bring it home 
From triple labours of the well-toil'd day, 

* P&lm xl. ver. 10. 

A body 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON, tf 

A body by fatigue o'erborne 5 a mind 
Keplete with glad emotions to its God ! 

Ah my lovM houfehold ! ah my little round 
Of fecial friends ! well do ye bear in mind 
Tno£ pleafing evenings, when, on my return, 
Mucn-wiih s d return— ferenity the mild, 
And eheerftilnefs the innocent, with rue 
Etttef'd the happy dwelling! Thou, my Emeft, 
Ingenuous youth ! whofe early fpring beipoke 
Thy unnmer, as it is, with richeft crops 
Luxuriant waving j gentle youth canit thou 
Thoie welcome hours forget F or thou— ~oh thcu ! 
*^How mall I utter from my beating heart 
Thy name* fo mufical, fo heavenly fweet 
Once to theie ears diftracled '.—Stanhope, fay, 
Can ft thou forget thofe hours, when clothM in lmiles 
Offend refpe£t, thou and thy friend have ftrove 
Whofe little hands mould readier! fupply 
My willing wants 5 officious hi your zeal 
To make the Sabbath-evenings, like the day, 
A fcene of fweet compofure to my foul # ! 
Oh happy Sabbaths !— Oh my foul's delight ! 
Oh days of niatchlefs mercy ! matchlefs praife ! 
Ooflej gone, for ever gone ! How dreadful fpent, 
Uieieis, in tears, and groans, and bitter woe, 
In this wild place of horrors f ! — Oh, return, 
Ve happy Sabbaths !— 3r to that lovM realm 
Difnifs me, Father of compandors, where 
Keigns one eternal Sabbath ! Tho 1 my voicej 
Feeble at beft, be damp\l, and cannot foar 
To ftrains fab lime, beneath, the farrowing fenie 
Of bafe ingratitude to thee, my God, 
My Father, Benefaclor, Saviour, Friend,— 
Vet in that realm of felt, 'twill quickly catch 
Congenial harmony I 'twill quickly rife 

* Gcod^FriJay, Eaftefj Sec. cr.ee fo peculiarly happy—yet how pari her* !-=> 
What a fid want of the foirit of reformation ! 

f i3<*thius has a re. ''.td ion highly applicable to the fenie of our Author j— — 

' NCt infi'ciari poffum profperitatis mex velocifiimum curfum. Sed hoc eft 

<}-.,6d recolentem me vehementius coqu'tt. Naifl in omni adverfitate fortuns* 

nfetitiffirtium genu3 eft imfortunli, fuifle felicem." T>C Confol. L. a- Prof. 4, 

C 3 Even 



IS THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Even from humility's weak, trembling touch 5 
Rife with the glowing feraph in the choir, 
And ftrive to be the loudeft in thy praife. 
Too foaring thought ! that, in a moment funk 
By fad reflection and convicting guilt, 
Falls proftrate on the earth. — So pois'd in air, 
And warbling his wild notes about the clouds, 
Almoft beyond the ken of human fight ; 
Ciapp'd to his fide his plumy fteerage, down 
Drops — inftantaneous drops the filent lark ! 
— How mail I mount to Heaven ? how join the choir 
Celeftial of bright Seraphim ? depreft 
Beneath the burden of a thoufand fins, 
On what bleft dove-like wing fliall I arife, 
And fly to the wifh'd reft ? 

— Of counfel free, 
Some to my aching heart, with kind intent, 
Offer the poifonous balfam of defert 5 
<c Bid me take comfort from the cheering view 
Cl Of deeds benevolent, and active life 
< e Spent for the weal of others !" Syren-fongs, 
Soon hufh'd by howlings of fevere reproach, 
Unfeeling, uncompalhonate, and rude, 
Which o'er my bodv? panting on the earth, 
With wounds incurable, infulting, whirls 
Her iron fcourge : accumulates each ill 
That can to man's beft fame damnation add : 
Spies not one mark of white throughout my life \ 
And, groaning o'er my anguilh, to defpair, 
As my foul, fad reiburce, indignant points ! 

But not from you, — ah cruel, callous foes, 
Thus to exult, and prefs a fallen man ! 
Nor even from you, tho' kind, miftaken friends, 
Admit we counfel here. Too deep the flake, 
Too awful the enquiry — how the foul 
May fmile at death, and meet its God in peace— 
To reft the anfwer on uncertain man ! 
Alike above your friend (hip, or you hate 
Here, here I tow'r triumphant, and behold, 

At 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON, J£ 

At once confirm'd fecurity and joy, 

Beyond the reach of mortal hand to fhake, 

Or for a moment cloud*- — Hail, bleeding Love! 

In thy humiliation deep and dread, 

Divine Philanthropic, my ranfom'd foul 

Beholds its triumph, and avows its cure! 

Its perfect, free falvation, knows or feels 

No merit, no dependence, but thy faith, 

Thy hope and love coniummate ! All abjures 3 

Carts all, — each care, each burden, at the foot 

Of thy victorious crofs j its heart and life 

One wifh, one word uniting — ever may 

That wifh and word in me, bleft Lord, unite !— 

" Oh, ever may in me Thy will be done !** 

Firm and unfhaken, as old Sion's Hill, 
Remains this fure foundation : who on ChnfT, 
The Corner-Stone, build faithful, build fecure. 
Eternity is theirs. Then talk no more, 
Ye airy, vague, fantaftic reafoners, 
Of the light ftubble, crackling in the fire 
Of- God's investigation ; of the chaff 
Difpers'd, and floating Tore the flighted wind,— 
The chaff of human merit ! gracious God ! 
What pride, what contradiction in the term ! 
Shall man, vain man, dreit. in little power 
Deriv'd from Nature's Author ; and that power 
Holding, an humble tenant, at the will 
Of him who freely gave it 5 His high will, 
The dread Supreme Difpofer, mall poor man, 
A beggar indigent and vile, — enrich'd 
With every precious faculty of foul, 
Of reaiar?, intellect ; with every gift 
Of animal life luxuriant — from the ftore 
Of unexhaufted bounty 5 fhall he turn 
That bounty to abufe ? lavifh defy 
The Giver with his gifts, — a rebel bafe ; 
And yet, prefumptuous, arrogant, deceived, 
ArTume a pride for actions not his own, 
Or boaft of merit, when his all's for God, 

And 



20 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

And he that all has fquander'd ! Pureft faints, 

Brighten: archangels, in the choir of heaven, 

Fulfilling all complete his holy will, 

Who plac'd them high in glory as they Hand ; 

Fulfil hut duty ! nay, as owing more 

From love's fupreme diftinclion, readier veil 

Their radiant faces with their golden plumes ; 

And fall more bumbled 'fore the throne they hymn 

With gratitude fuperior. Could bold pride 

One moment whifper to their lucid fouls 

Pefert's intolerable folly.-^down 

Like Lucifer, the Morning- liar, they'd fall 

From their bright ftate oblcur'd ! Then, proud, poor 

Conceived in fins, offending from thy youth, [worm, 

In every point tranfgreiTor of the law 

Of righteouihefs ; of merit towards God 

Dream, if thou can' ft : or, madman it thou art, 

Stand on that pica for heav'n.- — and be undone t 

Bleft be thy tender mercy, God of Grace I 
That 'midft the terrors of this trying hour, 
When in this midnight, lonely, pviibn- gloom, 
My inmoit ioul hangs naked to thy view ; 
When unciifTembled in the fearch, I fain 
Would know, explore, and balance every thought 
(For oh, I fee Eternity's dread gates 
Expand before me, foon perhaps to clofe !)— «• 
Bleft be thy mercy, that, iubdued to thee. 
Each lofty vain imagination bows 5 
Each high idea humbled in the duit ? 
Of felf-furncient righteouihefs my foul 
Diiclaims, abhors, with reprobation full 
The (lighten: apprehenfion ! — Worthlefs, Lord 3 
Even of the meanefl crumb beneath thy board. 

Biell be thy mercy, that, fo far trom due, 
I own thy bounties^ manifold and rich, 
Upon my foul have laid a debt fo deep, 
That I can never pay 1— And oh! I feel 
Compunction inexpreftible, to think 
How I have us'd thole bounties 1 fackcloth-clad a 

■ And 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON, %J 

And cover'd o'er with afhes, I deplore 

My utter worthleflhefs 5 and trembling, own, 

Thy wrath and juft difpleafure well might fink 

In deeper floods than thefe, that o'er my head 

Roar horrible, in fiery floods of woe, 

That know nor end nor refpite ! but my God, 

Bleft be thy mercy ever ! Thou'ft not left 

My foul to Defperation's dark difmay ! 

On Calvary's Hill my mourning eye difcerns, 

With faith's clear view, that Spectacle which wipes 

Each tear away, and bids the heart exult ! 

There hangs the Love of God ! There hangs of man 

The Ranfom ! there the Merit ; there the Cure 

Of human griefs — The Way, the Truth, the Life ! 

Oh Thou, for fin burnt- facrifice complete ! 
Oh Thou of holy life th' exemplar bright ! 
Perfection's lucid mirrour ! while to Thee 
Repentance fcarce dare lift her flowing eyes, 
Though in his ftrong arms manly Faith fupports 
The felf-convicled mourner ! — Let not love, 
Source of thy matchlefs mercies, aught delay, 
Like Mary, with Humility's meek hand 
Her precious box of coftly Nard to pour 
On thy dear feet : diffufing through the houfe 
The odour of her unguents ! Let not Lcve, 
Looking with Gratitude's full eye to Thee, 
Ceafe with the hallow'd fragrance of her works 
To cheer thy lowiieft members ; to refrefh 
Thee in thy faints afflicted ! Let not Love 
Ceafe with each fpiritual grace, each temper mild 5 
Fruits of the Holy Spirit. — to enrich, 
To fill, perfume, and fanctify the foul, 
Aflimilate to Thee, fweet Jefa ! Thee 
That foul's immortal habitant. How bleft, 1 
How beyond value rich the privilege, 
To welcome fuch a gueft ; how doubly blefl 
With fuch a fignature, — the roya! (lamp 
Of thy refembbnee, Prince oi Righteoufneft 
Of Mercy, Peace, and Truth ! Oh more and nore 

Transform 



22, THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Transform me to that image ! More and more 
Thou New Creation's Author, form complete 
In me the birth divine ; the heavenly mind ? 
The love conlummate, — all-performing love. 
Which dwelt in Thee, its Pattern and its Source; 
And is to man, happy regenerate man, 
Heaven's fureft foretafte, and its earned too. 

The thought delights and cheers, though not elates ; 
Through penfive Meditation's fable gloom 
It darts a ray of ibft, well-lemperM light, 
A kind of lunar radiance on my foul, 
Gentle, not dazzling I Thou, who knoweft all, 
Know' ft well, thrice gracious Mafter ! that my heart 
Attun'd to thy dear love, howe'er fedue'd 
By worldly adulation from its vows, 
And for a few contemptible, contemn'd 
Unhappy moments faithlefs j well thou know'ft 
That heart ne'er knew true peace but in thy love t 
That heart hath in thy love known thorough peace 1 
Hath frequent panted for that love's full growth $ 
And fought occafions to difplay its warmth 
By deeds of kindnefs, mild humanity, 
And pitying mercy to its fellow-men! 

And thou haft bieft me! and I will rejoice 
That thou haft bleft me ! thou haft giv'n my foul 
The Luxury of Luxuries, to wipe 
The tear from many an eye 5 to flop the groan 
At many an aching heart. And Thou wilt wipe 
The tears from mine, and Thou the groan reprefs : 
And Thou— for oh, this beating heart is thine, 
Framed by thy Hand to pity's quickeft touch,-?- 
Thou wilt forgive the (inner $ and bellow 
Mercy, fweet mercy I which, infpir'd by Thee, 
*He never had the power, and ne'er the will, 
To hold from others, where he could beftow ! 

Shall he not then reft happily fecure 
Of mercy, thrice bleft mercy from mankind ? 
Where refts it ? — -Reiignation's meek-eyed power 
Suftain me ftili j Compofure ftill be mine i 

Where 



THOUGHTS ifc PRISON. 2$ 

Where refts it ?— Oh myfterous Prcvidenee ! 
Silence the wild idea :~t haye found 
No mercy yet j no mild humanity : 
With cruel unrelenting rigour torn, 
And, loft in prifon, wild to all below : 

So from his daily toil returning late 
O'er Grifon's rugged mountains, clad in fnoy/j 
The peafant with ailoniuYd eyes beholds 
A gaunt wolf, from the pine-grove howling rufh l 
Chill horror rtiffcns him, 3 like to fly 
Unable, to refift : the monfter feeds 
Blood-happy, growling, on his quivering heart ! 
Meanwhile light blazes in his lonely cot 
The crackling hearth j his careful wife prepares 
Her humble cates ; and thro" the lattic'd light 
His little ones, expecting his return, 
?eep, anxious ! Ah, poor yiclim, he nor hearth 
Bright blazing, wor the houfewife's humble cates, 
Nor much-lov'd children henceforth more mall fee ? 

But foft : 'Tis calm reflexion's midnight hoiirj 
*Tis the foul*s fclemn inqueft. Broods a thought 
Refentful in thy bofom ? Art thou yet, 
Penitent pilgrim^ on eanrf s utmoit bourn, 
And candidate for Heaven,~art thou yet 
In love imperfe£t ? and has malice place> 
With dark revenge* and unforgiving hate, 
Hell's blackeft offspring ? — Glory to my God ! 
With triumph let me ling, and clofe my ft rain j 

Abliorrent ever from my earlieft youth 
Of thefe detefted paftions, in this hour, 
This trying hour of keen oppreffive grief, 
My foul iuperior rifes ; nor of thefe 
Malevolent, a touch, the (lighten, touch 
Feels, or mall ever harbour \ Tho' it feels 
In all their amplitude, with all their weightj 
tJngcntleit treatment, and a load of woe, 
Heavy as that which fabling poets lay- 
On proud Enceladus ! Tho' life be drawn 
£/ Cruelty's fitf€g hand down to the leesi 



24 THOUHTS IN PRISON 

Yet can my heart, with all the truth of prayer, 

With all the fervour of fincere defire, 

Looking at Thee, thou love of God and man !— 

Yet can my heart in life or death implore, 

11 Father, forgive them, as Thou pititft me!" 

Oh where' s the wonder, when thy crofs is feen ! 
Oh, where' s the wonder, when thy voice is heard 5 
Harmonious interceflion ! Son of God. 
Oh, where's the wonder — or the merit where, 
Or what's the tank to love-attuned fouls — 
Poor fellow- creatures pitying, to implore 
Forgivenefs for them ? Oh forgive my foes ! 
Belt friends, perchance, for they may bring to Thee! 
—Complete forgivenefs on them, God of grace j 
Complete forgivenefs, in the dreadful hour, 
When molt they need forgivenefs ! And oh fuch 
As, in that dreadful hour, my poor heart wants, 
And trufts, great Father, to receive from Thee, 
Such full forgivenefs grant, — and my glad foul 
Shall fold them then, my brethren, in thy houfe I 

Thus do I footh, and while away with fong 
My lonely hours, in drear confinement pad, 
Like thee, oh gallant Raleigh ! — or like thee, 
My haplefs anceft or, fam'd Overbury ! — 
But Oh, in this how different is our fate ! 
Thou, to a vengeful woman's fubtle wiles 
A haplefs victim rall'ft ; while my deep gloom, 
Bnghten'd by female virtue and the light 
Of conjugal affection — ieads me oft, 
Like the poor priion'd linnet, to forget 
Freedom, and tuneful friends, and ruffe t health, 
Vocal with native melody 5 to fwell 
The feeble throat and chaunt the lowly (train $ 
As in the feai'on, when from ipray to ipray 
Flew liberty on light eiaftic wing, 
She files no more : — Be mute, my plantive lyre ! 

March 15, 1777. 

END OF THE SECOND WEEK, 

WEEK 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 25 

WEEK THE THIRD. 

Public Punijbment.-— March 18, 1777. 
"\7\AIN are thy generous efforts, worthy Bull*, 

* Thy kind companion's vain ! The hour is come : 
Stern fate demands compliance : I muft pafs 
Thro 1 various deaths, keen torturing, to arrive 
At that my heart fo fervently implores 5 
Yet fruitleis. Ah! why hides he his fell front 
PYom woe, from wretchedness, that with glad fmiles 
Would welcome his approach ; and tyrant-like, 
Delights to dafli the joucund rofeate cup 
From the full hand of gaudy luxury 
And unlufpecling eafe — Far worie than death 
That prifon's entrance, whofe idea chills 
With freezing horror ail my curdling blood; 
Whofe very name, itamping with infamy, 
Makes my foul frighted (tart, in phrenzy whirled, 
And verging near to madneis I See, they ope 
Their iron jaws ! See the vaft gates expand, 
Gate after gate-— and in an inftant twang, 
Clos'd by their growling keepers : — When again, 
Myfterious powers !-— oh when to ope on me ? 
Mercy, fweet Heaven, fupport my faltering fteps, 
Support my fickning heart ! My full eyes iwim ; 
O'er all my frame diitils a cold damp fweat. 
Hark — what a rattling din; On every fide 
The congregated chains clank frightful : Throngs 
Tumultuous prefs around, to view, to gaze 
Upon the wretched Granger ; fcarce believ'd 
Other than vilitor within fuch walls, 
With mercy and with freedom in his hands. 
Alas, how changed ! — Sons of confinement, fee 
No pitying deliverer, but a wretch 
O'erwheim'd with mifery, more haplefs far 
Than the moft haplefs 'mongft ye ; loaded hard 
With guilt's oppreffive irons I His are chains 

* Frederick Bull Ffq. Alderman of London ; to whofe kindnefs and humanity 
the Author has exprelTeU the highclt obligations. 

D N* 



*6 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

No time can loofen, and no hand unbind : 

Fetters which gore the foul. Oh horror, horror I » 

Ye mafTive bolts, give way : ye fullen doors, 

Ah, open quick, and from this clamorous rout, 

Cloie in ray diimal, lone, allotted room 

Shrowd me ; — -for ever fhrowd from human fight, 

And make it, if 'tis poiTible, my grave ! 

How truly welcome, then ! Then would I greet 
With hallow 'd joy the drear, but bleft abode j 
And deem it far the happieft I have known 
The bell: I e'er inhabited. But, alas! 
There's no iuch mercy for me. I muft run 
Misery's extremeft round 5 and this muft be 
A while my living grave 5 the doleful tomb* 
Sad founding with my unremitted groans, 
And moiften'd with the bitternefs of tears ! 

Ah, mournful dwelling! deftin'd ne'er to fee 
The human face divine in placid fmiles, 
And innocent gladnefs cloth'd : deftin'd to hear 
No found of genial, heart-reviving joy ! 
The fons of ibrrows only are thy guefts, 
And thine the only muiic of their fighs, 
Thick fobbing from the tempeft of their breads ! 
Ah, mournful dwelling ! never haft thou feen, 
Amidft the numerous wretched ones immur'd 
Within thy ftone-giit compafs, wretch fo funk, 
So" loft, fo ruin'd> as the man who falls 
Thus, in deep angui/h, on the ruthlefs floor, 
And bathes it with the torrent of his tears I 

And can it be ? or is it all a dream ? 
A vapour of the mind ?^-I fcarce believe 
jVIyfelf awake or acting. Sudden thus 
Am I — lb compafs'd round with comforts late* 
Health, frcdom, peace, torn, torn from all, and loft ! 
A priibner in — Impoffible !^— I fleep : 
*Tis fancy's coinage ; 'tis a dream's delufion. 

Vain d:\am 1 vain fancy! Quickly am I rous'd 
To all the dire reality's diftrefs : 
I tremble, ftart, and feel myftlf awake, 
dreadfully by awake to all my woes ? juid roll Fronv 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. Z? 

From wave to wave on Sorrow's ocean toft ! 

Oh for a moment's paufe, — a moment's reft, 
To calm my hurried fpirits ! to recall 
Reflection's daggering pilot to the helm, 
And (till the maddening whirlwind in my foul! 
— It cannot be ! The dm increafes round : 
Rough voices rage difcordant ; dreadful fhrieks I 
Hoarfe imprecations dare the thunderer's ire, 
And call down fwift damnation ! thouland chains 
In difmal notes clink, mirthful ! Roaring burfts 
Of loud obftreperous laughter, and ftrange choirs, 
Of gutturals, dilfonant and rueful, vex 
E'en the dull ear of Midnight! Neither reft, 
Nor peaceful calm, nor ftlence of the mind, 
Refrefiiment fweet, nor interval or paufe 
From morn to eve, from eve to morn is found 
Amidft the forges of this troubled lea * I 

So, from the Iceman Lake th' impetuous Rhone 
His blue waves pufhes rapid, and bears down 
(Furiate to meet Saone's pellucid ftream, 
With roar tremendous, thro" the craggy ftreights 
Of Alpine rocks) his freight of waters wild ; 
Still rufhing in perturbed eddies on 5 
And ft ill, from hour to hour, from age to age, 
In conflux vaft and unremitting, pours 
His boifterous flood to old Lugdunim's wall ! 

Oh my rack'd brain~-oh my diftracled heart j 
The tumult thickens : wild diforder grows 
More painfully confusM !— And can it be ? 
Is this the manfion — -this the houfe ordain'd 
For recollection's folemn purpofe; — this 
The place from whence full many a flitting foul 
(The work of deep repentance — mighty work, 
Still, ftill to be performM) rauft mount to God, 
And give its dread account ! Is this the place 

*rt is but a juft tribute to Mr.Akermaa the Veeper of this difmal place, to observe 
that ail the evils here enumerated are the .au^eJiiiteconiequencto or promiscuous 
co. Inement, and no way chargeable to Mr. A's account. It is from the ftrifteft 
observation, I am perfuaded, that no man could do more in the prefent circum- 
ftances. His attention isgreat, and hi6 kindnefs and humanity to thofein ficknefs 
«r ;iffli&ion, peculiarly pleafing. I can bear teftimony to many fignal inftanc?s, 
which I have remarked fince my fad confinement. 

P A Ordain'd 



aS THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Ordain* d by juftice, to confine a while 
The foe to civil order, and return 
Reformed and moraliz'd to focial life ! 
This den of drear confufion* wild uproar, 
Of mingled riot and unblufhing vice! 
This fchool of infamy ! from whence, improvM 
In every hardy villany, returns 
More hardened, more a foe to God and man, 
The miicreant, nurs'd in its infectious lap j 
All cover'd with its peftilential lpots, 
And breathing death and poifon wherefo'er 
He ftalks contagious ! from the lion's den 
A lion more ferocious as conhVd ! 

Britons, while failing in the golden barge 
Of giddy diflipation, on the ftream, 
Smooth diver ftream of gorgeous luxury, 
Boaft gaily — and for ages may they boaft, 
And truly ! for through ages we may truft 
'Twill interpofe between our crimes and God, 
And turn away his juft avenging fcourge— 
" The national Humanity!" Hither then, 
Ye fons of pity, and ye fons of thought ! — 
Whether by public zeal and patriot love, 
Or by Companion's gentle ftirrings wrought, 
Oh hither come, and find fufficient fcope 
For all the patriot's, all the chriftian's Fearch! 
Some great, fome falutary plan to frame, 
Turning confinement's curfes into good ; 
And, like the God who but rebukes to fave, 
Extracting comfort from correction's ftroke ! 

Why do we punifh ? Why do penal laws 
Coercive, by tremendous fanclions bind 
Offending mortals ? — Juftice on her throne 
Rigid on this hand to example points j 
More mild to reformation upon that : 
—She balances, and finds no ends but thefe. 

Crowd then, along with yonder revel-rout, 
To exemplary punimment, and mark 
The language of the multitude, obfccne, 

Wild, 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON, 2g 

Wild, blafphemous, and cruel ! Tend their looks 

Of madding, drunken, thoughtlefs, ruthlefs gaze, 

Or giddy curiofity and vain ! 

Their deeds ftill more emphatic, note ; and fee, 

By the fad fpeclacle unimprefs'd, they dare 

Even in the eye of death, what to their doom 

Brought their expiring fellows ! Learn we hence. 

How to example's falutary end 

Our juftice fagely minifters ! But one,-r- 

Sliould there be one — thrice haplefs,— »of a min4 

By guilt unharden'd, and above the throng 

Of defperate mifcreants, thro' repeated crimes 

In ftupor lulPd, and loft to every fenie 5 — 

Ah me, the fad reverie! — mould there be one 

Of generous feelings ; whom remorfelefs fate, 

Pallid necefTity, or chill diftrefs, 

The family's urgent call, or juft demand 

Of honeft creditor,-*— (folicitudes 

To recklefV, pamper'd worldlings all unknown) 

Should there be one, whole trembling, frighted hand. 

Caufes like thefe in temporary guilt, 

Abhorrent to his inmoft foul, have plung'd, 

And made obnoxious to the rigid law! 

Sentenc'd to pay, — and, wearied with its weight* 

Well-pleas'd to pay with life that law's demand, 

Awful difpenfers of ftric~t. juftice, fay, 

Would you have more than life ? or, in an age, 

A country, where humanity reverts 

At torture's bare idea, would you tear 

Worie than on racking wheels a foul like this, 

And make him to the ftupid crowd a gaze 

For lingering hours ?— drag him along to death 

An ufelds fpectacle ; and more than flay 

Your living victim ? — Death is your demand : 

Death your law's fentence: then this life is yours a . 

Take the juft forfeit ; you can claim no more ! 

Foe to thy infidelity, — and griev'd 
That he avows not, from the chriftian fource, 
The firft great chriftian duty, which lb well, 

£>3 S© 




30 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

So forcibly he paints! — Yet let me greet 

With heart-felt gratulations thy warm zeal, 

Succefsful in that lacred duty's caufe, 

The caufe of our Humanity, Voltaire! 

Torture's vile agents trembling at thy pen : 

Intolerance and Perfecution gnafli 

Their teeth, defpairing, at the lucid rays 

Of truth all prevalent, beaming from thy page. 

The rack, the wheel, the dungeon, and the flame, 

In happier Europe ufelefs and unknown, 

Shall foon, — oh fpeed the hour, Companion's God, 

Be feen no more ; or feen as prodigies 

Scarce credited, of Gothic barbarous times. 

Ah, gallant France, for milder manners fam'd, 
How wrung it my fad foul, to view expos'd 
On inftruments of torture — mangled limbs 
And bleeding carcafes, beiide thy roads, 
Thy beauteous woods and avenues ! Fam'd works, 
And worthy well the grandeur of old Rome ! 

We too, who boaft of gentler laws, reformed 
And civiliz'd by liberty's kind hand : 
Of mercy boaft, and mildeif punimments : 
Yet punimments of torture exquifite 
And idle 5 — painful, ruinous parade! 
We too, with Europe humaniz'd, mail drop 
The barbarous fe verity of death} 
Example's bane, not profit ; — (hall abridge 
The lavage bafe ovation ; mail affign 
The wretch, whole life is forfeit to the laws, 
With all the filent dignity of woe, 
With all the mournful majefty of death, 
Retir'd and folemn, to his awful fate ! 
Shall to the dreadful moment, moment ftill 
To fouls beft fitted, give diftinclion due 5 
Teach the well-order'd fufterer to depart 
With each imprefTion ferious ; nor infult 
With clamorous crowds and exultations bafe, 
A foul, a fellow-foul, which ftands prepar'd 
On time's dread verge to take its wonderous flight 

To 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 3X 

To realms of immortality i Yes, the day 
— I joy in the idea, — will arrive, 
When Britons philanthropic mall rejeft 
The cruel cuftom, to the fufFerer cruel, 
Ufelefs and baneful to the gaping crowd ! 
The day will come, when life, the deareft price 
Man can pay down, fufficient forfeit deem'd 
For guilty man's tranfgreflion of the law, 
Shall be paid down, as meet for fuch a price, 
Refpe&ful, fad ; with reverence to a foul's 
Departure hence ; with reverence to the fouPs 
And body's reparation, much-lov'd friends I 
Without a torture to augment its lofs, 
Without an infult to moled its calm ; 
To the demanded debt no fell account 
Of curious, hifTing ignominy annex'd : 
Anguifh, beyond the bittereft torture keen 5 
Unparallel'd in realms where bigotry 
Gives to the furious fons of Dominic 
Her fable flag, and marks their way with blood. 

Hail, milder fons of Athens ! civiliz'd 
By arts ingenious, by the 'fuafive power 
Of humanizing fcience ; well ye thought, 
Like you may Britons think, that 'twas enough, 
The fentence pafs'd, a Socrates fhould die! 
The fage, obedient to the law's decree, 
Took from the weeping executioner 
The draught, refign'd : amidft his forrowing friends, 
Full of immortal hopes convers'd fublime ; 
And, half in Heaven— compos'd himfelf, and died ! 

Oh envy'd fate! oh happinefs fupreme ! 
So let me die ; fo, midft my weeping friends, 
Refign my life ! I afk not the delay 
,Ev'n of a moment. Law, thou'dft have thy due ! 
Nor thou, nor juftice, can have more to claim. 

But equal laws, on truth and reafon built, 
-Look to humanity with lenient eye, 
And temper rigid juftice with the claims 
Of heaven-defcended mercy! to condemn 

Sorrow- 



3* THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Sorrowing and flow 5 while fhidious to correcT^ 

Like man's all-gracious parent, with the view 

Benign and laudable, of moral good, 

And reformation perfect. Hither then, 

Ye fons of fympathy, of wifdom ; friends 

To order, to companion, to the ftate, 

And to your fellow- beings j hither come, 

To this wild realm of uproar \ hither hafte, 

And fee the reformation, fee the good 

Wrought by confinement in a den like this ! 
View, with unblufhing front, undaunted heait 3 

The callous harlot in the open day 

Adminifrer her poifons, 'midft a rout 

Scarcely lefs bold or poifonM than herfelf ! 

View, and with eyes that will not hold the tear 

In gentle pity gufhmg for fuch griefs, — 

View, the young wretch, as yet unfledg'd in vice, 

Juft fhackled here, and by the veteran throng, 

In every infamy and every crime 

Grey and infulting, quickiv taught to dare, 

Harden'd like them in guilt's opprobrious fchool \ 

Each bafhful fentiment, incipient grace, 

Each yet remorfeleis thought of right and wrong 

Murder'd and buried in his darkenM heart !— 

Hear how thofe veterans clank, — ev'n jovial clank 

— Such is obduracy and vice,— ^their chains * ! 

Hear, how with curfes hoarfe and vauntings bold, 

Each fpirits up, encourages and dares 

His defperate fellow to more defperate proofs 

Of future hardy enterprize ; to plans 

Of death and ruin ! Not exulting more 

Heroes or chiefs for noble acts renown'd, 

Holding high converfe, mutually relate 

Gallant atchievements worthy, than the fons 

Of plunder and of rapine here recount 

* This circtimftance is fliehtlv mentioned before; and alludes to a fa<3 
equally fingular and ditgullful. The rattling of their fetters is frequently, 
and in' a uanton manner, nradtifed amongft fome of the worft offenders : as 
if an amufement or to Oiew thtir infertility to fhame. How (hocking to fee 
human nature thus in ruins ! Here it is emohatically fo, v/orfe than in bedlam, 
as Madnels with reafon is mere uVadi'ul than without it 1 

No 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 33 

On peaceful life their devaluations wild 5 
Their dangers, hair-breadth 'fcapcs, atrocious feats, 
Confederate, and confederating Itill 
In fchemes of deathful honor! Who, furpriz'd, 
Can fuch effects contemplate, upon minds 
Eftrang'd to good ; fermenting on the lees 
Of pregnant ill ; affociate and combined 
In intercourfe infernal, reftlefs, dire ; 
And goading conftant each to others thoughts 
To deeds of defperation from the tale 
Of vaunted infamy oft told : fad fruit 
Of the mind's vacancy ! — And to that mind 
Employment none is offer'd : not an hour 
To fecret recollection is aflign'd ; 
No feafonable found inftruclion brought, 
Food for their thoughts, felf- gnawing. Not the day 
To reft and duty dedicate, finds here 
Or reft or duty ; revel'd off, unmark'd ; 
Or like the others undiftinguinVd, fave 
By riot's roar, and felf-confuming (loth \ 
For ufeful occupation none is found, 
Benevolent t' employ their liftlefs hands, 
With indolence fatigued ! Thus every day 
Anew they gather guilt's corrofive ruft ; 
Each wretched day accumulates frefh ills ; 
And horribly advanced, flagitious grown 
From faulty, they go forth, tenfold of Hell 
More the devoted children : to the ftate 
Tenfold more dangerous and envenom'd foes 
Then firft they enter'd this improving fchool ! 
So, cag'd and fcanty fed, or taught to rage 
By taunting infults, more ferocious burft 
On man the tyger or hyaena race 
From fell confinement ; and, with hunger urg'd, 
Gnafh their dire fangs, and drench themfelves in blood. 

But, (hould the felon fierce, th' abandon'd train 
Whofe inroads on the human peace forbid, 
Almoft forbid Companion's mild regard 5 
(Yet, ah ! what man with fellow-men can fall 

So 



34 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

So low, as not to claim foft pity's care!) 

Should thefe aught juftify the rigid voice, 

Which to fevere confinement's durance dooms 

Infallible the body and the foul 

To bitterer!, fureft ruin, mail we not 

With generous indignation execrate 

The cruel indiicriminating law, 

Which turns misfortune into guilt and curfe, 

And with the felon harden'd in his crimes 

lianks the poor haplefs debtor ?— Debt's not guilt % 

Alas ! the worthier! may incur the flroke 

Or worldly infelicity ! What man, 

How high foe'er he builds his earthly neit, 

Can claim feourity from fortune's change, 

Or boaf! him of to morrow ! Of the earl 

Greater! and chief, lo } humbled in the duft, 

Sits Job the fport of mifery ! Wealthier! late 

Of ali bleft Araby's mof! wealthy fons, 

He wants a potflierd now to fcrape his wounds 3 

He wants a bed to fhrowd his tortur'd limbs, 

And only finds a dunghill ! Creditor, 

Would!! $hou add ibrrows to this forrowing man? 

Tear him from ev'n his dunghill, and confine 

'Mid ft recreant felons in a Britifh jail !— 

Oh Britiih inhumanity I Ye climes, 

Ye foreign climes-*-Be not the truth proclaimed 

Within your ftreets, nor be it heard or told 3 

Left ye retort the cruelty we urge, 

And fcorn the boailed miklnefs of our laws! 

Bleft be the hour,-^~amidil my depth of woe a 
Amidft this perturbation of my foul, 
God of my life, I can, I will exult \ — 
Bleft be the hour, that to my humble thought 
Thy fpirit, facred fource of every good, 
Brought the fublime idea, to expand 
By charity, the angels grace divine, 
The rude, relentlefs, iron prifon-gates, 
And give the pining debtor to the world, 
His weeping family, ajid humble home \ 



Bleft 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 35 

Bleft be the hour, when, heedful to my voice 
Bearing the priibners fad fighs to their ears, 
Thou lands, with ibft commiferation touch'd, 
Delighted to go forth, and villt glad 
Thofe prifoners in their woe, and fet them free ! 
God of the merciful ! Thou haft announced 
On mercy, thy firft, deareit attribute, 
Chofen beatitude. Oh pour the dew, 
The foftering dew of mercy on thy gifts, 
Their rich donations grateful! May the prayers 
OF thofe enfranchisM by their bounteous zeal 
Arife propitious for them! and, when hears'd 
In deaths cold arms this hapiefs frame mall lie, 
—The generous tear, perchance, not quite withheld j— 
When friendly memory to reflection Ji'ings 
My humble efforts and my mourufulTate ; 
On ftable baiis founded, may the work 
Diffufe its good through ages ! nor withhold 
Its refcuing influence, till the hour arrives 
When wants, and debts, and ficknefs are no more, 
And univerfal freedom bleffeth all ! 

But, till that hour, on reformation's plan, 
Ye generous ions of fympathy, intent, 
Boldly ftand forth. The caufe may well demand, 
And juftify full well your noble ft zeal. 
Religion, policy, your country's good, 
And chriftian pity for the fouls of men, 
To priions call you ; call to eleanfe away 
The filth of thele foul dens ; to purge from guilt, 
And turn them to morality's fair fchoof. 

Nor deem impoflible the great attempt, 
Augaea» tho' it feem 5 yet not beyond 
The ftrength of thofe that, like Alcides, aim 
High to be ranked amidft the godlike few, 
Who mine eternal on fame's ampleft roll : 
HonouVd with titles, far beyond the firft 
Which proudeft monarchs of the globe can give ; 
1 Saviours and benefactors of mankind J" 
Hail, generous Hanway? To thy noble plan, 

Sage 



3*> THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Sage fympathetic,* let the mufe fubfcribe, 

Rejoicing ! In the kind purfuit, good luck 

She wifheth thee, and honour. Could her ftrain 

Embellifh aught, or aught aflift thy toils 

Benevolent, 'twould cheer her lonely hours, 

And make the dungeon fmile. But toils like thine 

Need no embellifhment ; need not the aid 

Of mufe or feeble verfe. Reafon approv'd 

And charity- fultain'd, firm will they ftand, 

Under his fanclion, who on meicy's works 

E'er looks complacent ; and his ions on earth, 

His chofen ions, with angel-zeal inipires 

To plan and to fupport. And thine well plann'd, 

Shall be fupported. Pity for thy brow, 

With policy the fige, mall fhortiy twine 

The garland, wormier far than that of oak, 

So fam'd in ancien Rome — the meed of him 

Who lav'd a fingle citizen. More bleis'd 

Religion mild, with gentle mercy join'd, 

Shall hail thee — for the citizens, the fouls 

Innumerous reftor'd to God, the ftate, 

Themfelves, and focial life, by lblitude ; 

Devotion's parent, Recollection's nurfe, 

Source of repentance true 5 of the mind's wounds 

The deeper! prober, but the fafeft curef ! 

Hail, facred lblitude! Thefe are thy works, 
True fource of good fupreme ! Thy bleft effecls 
Already on my mind's delighted eye 
Open beneficent. E'en now I view 
The revel-rout difpers'd ; each to his cell 
Admitted, filent ! The obftreperous cries 
Worle than infernal yells ; the clank of chains— 
Opprobrious chains, to man fevere difgrace, 
Hulh'd in calm order, vex the ears no more ! 
While in their ftead, reflection's deep-drawn figl.S, 
And prayers of humble penitence are heard, 
To heaven well pleaiing, in fott wifpers round ! 

* Sec Mr. Haway's pamphlet entitled, " Solitude in Imprifonment."' 
t Vide Taylor's Holy Living and Dying) part ii* p# *«. 

No 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 37 

No more, Widft wanton idlenefs, the hours 
Drag wearifome and flow : kind induftry 
Gives wings and weight to every moment's fpeed 5 
Each minute marking with a golden thread 
Of moral profit. Harden'd vice no more 
Communicates its poifon to the fouls 
Of young aflbciates, nordiffufes wide 
A peftiiential taint. Still thought prevades 
The inmoit heart : inftruclion aids the thought 5 
And bleft religion with life giving ray 
Shines on the mind fequefter'd in its gloom ; 
Difclofmg glad the golden gates, thro' which 
Repentance, led by faith, may tread the courts 
Of oeace and reformation ! Cheer'd and changed, 
—His happy days of quarantine perform'd— 
I,o, from his folitucle the captive corrtes 
New-born, and opes once more his grateful eyes 
On day, on life, on man, a fellow man ! 

Hail facred foiitude ! from thee alone 
Flow thefe high bleffings. Nor be't deem'd fevere, 
Such fequeftration 5 deftin'd to retrieve 
The mental lapfe ; and to its powers reftore 
The Heaven -born foul, encrufted with foul guilt: 
'Tis tenderer!: mercy, 'tis humanity 
Yearning with kincilieft foftnefs : while her arm 
From ruin plucks, effectuates their releafe, 
And gives a ranfom'd man to earth — to Heaven! 

To the lick patient, ftruggling in the jaws 
Of obftinate diieaie, e'er knew we yet 
Grateful and pleaiing from p.hyfician's hand 
The rough but iaiutary draught ! — For that 
£>o we withold the draught ? and, ialfely kind, 
Hang iighing o'er our friend, — aliowYi to tofs 
On the hot fever'd bed, rave on and die, 
Unmedicin'd unreliev'd ? — But fages, fay, 
Where is the medicine ? Who will prefcribe a cure, 
Or adequate to this corroding ill, 
Or in its operation milder found ? 

See, on old Thames's waves indignant ride, 

E In 



3$ THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

In fullen terror, yonder fable bark, 
By ftate-phyficians lately launched, and hight 
Juflitia*! Dove-eyed Pity, if thou canfr. 
That bark afcend with me, and let us learn 
How. temper'd with her fifler Mercy, there 
Reigns juftice ? and, effective to the ill 
Inveterate grown, her lenient aid fupplies. 

And rolls this bark on Thames's generous flood- 
Flood that wafts freedom, wafts the high-born ions 
Of gallant liberty to every land ? 
See the chain'd Britons, fetter'd man by man I 
See in the llifled hold — excluded whence 
Man's common bleMing, air ne*'er freely breathes — . 
They mingle, crowded ! — To our pamper'd fteeds 
Inferior how in lodging ! Tainted food 
And poifon'd fumes their life-fprings Magnate rank, 
They reel aloft for breath : their tottering limbs 
Bend weak beneath the burden of a frame 
Corrupted burning j with blue feverous fpots 
Contagious ; and, unequal to the toil, 
UjgM b)- talk- mailers vehement, fevere, 
On the chill fand-bank! — by defpair and pain 
Worn down and wearied, fome their being curfe, 
Ami die, devoting to deftruction's rage 

Society's whole race deterred ! Some, 

More mild, gaip out in agonies of foul 

Their loath d exiftence 5 which nor phynVs aid, 

Nor fweet religion's interpofr.g fmile, 

Soothes with one ray of comfort ! Gracious God ! 

And this is mercy ! — Thus, from fentencM death 

Britons in pity reipite, to reftore 

And moralize mankind ! Correction this, 

Juil Heaven, deiign'd for reformation's end ! 

Ye (laves, that bred in tyranny's domains 

Toil at the galiies, how iupremely bleft, 

How exquihte your lot (ib much deplord 

» The Author feems chiefly to have formed his i'ha of the mode of t-eitirg 
copvifts Gr, the Thames from a late pamrhkt publilhed by Dr. Smith ; But ve 
are ir formed that the evils here complained or have been already, in a great 
rncafiArc, and we truft will foon be wholly, removed. 

By 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 39 

By haughty Tons of freedom) to the fate 
Experienc'd hourly by her free-born fons, 
In our Britannia's vaunted refidence* 5 
Sole, chofen refidence of faith refinM, 
And genuine liberty ! Ye fenators, 
Ye venerable fages of the law, 
In juit refentment for your country's fame, 
Wipe off this contradictory reproach 
To manners, and to policy like yours ! 
Correcl, but to amend : 'Tis God's own plan. 
Corre6t, but to reform ; then give to men 
The means of reformation ! Then, reftor'd 
To recollection, to himfelf, to God, 
The criminal will blefs your faving hand ; 
And, brought to reafon, to religion brought, 
Will own that folitude, as folely apt 
For work fo folemn, has that work atchiev'd, 
Miraculous, and perfect of his cure. 

Ah me 1 — to fentiments like thefe eftrang'd, 
Eftrang'd, as ignorant, — and never pent 
Till this fad chance within a prifon's wall, 
With what deep force, experienc'd, can I urge 
The truths momentous ! How their power I feci 
In this my folitude, in this loan hour, 
This melancholy midnight hour of thought, 
Encircled with th' unhappy ! firmly clos'd 
Each barricaded door, and left, juft God, 
Oh blelTing — left to penfivenefs and Thee ! 

To me how high a biefimg ! Nor contains 
Secluiion aught of punifhment : to mix 
With wretches here were punifhment indeed ! 
How dread a punifhment ! — In life's belt days, 
Of all raoft chofen, valued and belov'd, 
Was foft retirement's ieafon. From youth's dawn 
To folitude inur'd, " ne'er lefs alone 

* There is a thought in Lucan to the fame pnrpofe, elegantly exprefled : 
«•** helices Arabes, Medique, Eoaque tellus, 
4 * Quamftib perpetuis tenuerunt rata tyrannis. 
14 Ex populis, qui regna fcrunt, Sors ultima noftra eft, 
*« quos fervire pudet." Fharfal. Lib. 7. 

E a " Than 



40 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

" Than when alone," with him fo truly fam'd 
In wifdom's fchool, my heart could ever beat 
Glad unifon. To meditation's charms, 
Pleas'd votary, how have pafs'd my iweeteft hours 
In her fecrete and calm fociety ! 
Still Meditation, Solitude's fair child, 
Man's deareft friend, — O happy be the time 
That introduced me to the hallow'd train ; 
That taught me, thro 1 thy genial leflbns fage, 
My beft, my trueft dignity to place 
In thought, reflection deep, and ftudious fearch, 
Divineft recreations of the mind ! 
Oh happy be the day which gave that mind 
Learning's firft tincture — bleft thy foftering care, 
Thou moftbelov'd of parents, worthier!: fire! 
Which, tafte-infpiring, made the ietter'd page 
My favourite companion : moft efteem'd, 
And mod improving ! Almoft from the day 
Of earlier! childhood to the prefent hour 
Of gloomy, black misfortune, books, dear books. 
Have been, and are, my comforts. Morn and night, 
Adverfity, profperity, at home, 
Abroad, health, ficknefs, — good or ill report, 
The fame firm friends ; the fame refrefhment rich, 
And fource of confolation ! Nay, e'en here 
Their magic power they lofe not ; ftill the fame, 
Of machlefs influence in this priibn-houfe, 
Unutterably horrid : in an hour 
Of woe, beyond all fancy's fictions drear. 

Drear hour! — What is it? — Loft in poignant thought, 
Loft in the retrofpection manifold 
Of thee, loved ftudy, — and of thee, my &re, 
Who to the fountain fair of Science led 
My infant feet, — I lofe all count of time, 
I lofe my 111 f. Lift — 'tis dread midnight's hour, 
When waking fancy (with invention wild 
By ages hallow'd) hath to fpirits aflign'd 
— Spirits of dear departed friends — to walk 
The iilent gloom, and bring us from the dead 

Tales 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 4 1 

Tales harrowing up the foul aghaft ! — And, hark ! 
Solemn and flow the iron tongue ot night 
Reibunds alarming! — My o'er-harrafs'd foul, 
Confus'd, is loft in forrows : down mine eyes 
Stream the full tears, diftrefs is all alive, 
And quick imagination's pulie beats high! 

" Dear father^ is it thou ?" Methought his ghoft 
Glided in fdence by me! Not a word, — 
While mournfully he (hakes his dear pale face ! 

fray, thou much-lov'd parent ! ftay, and give 
Oiie word of coniblation ; if allow' d 

To foil, like whom no Ton hath ever lov'd, 
None ever (uffer'd ! See, it comes again : 
Auguft it flits acrofs th' aftonim'd room! 

1 know thee well, thy beauteous image know : 
Dear fpirit ftay, and take me to the world 

Where thou art. And where thou art, oh my father, 

I muft, I muft be happy. — Every day 

Thou know'ft, remembrance hath embalm'd thy love, 

And wifh'd thy prefence. Malancholy thought, 

At laft to meet thee in a place like this ! 

Oh ftay, and waft me inftant — But, 'tis gone, 

The dear deluflon ! He nor hears my words, 

My filial anxiety, nor regards 

My pleading tears. 'Twas but a coinage vain 

Of the diftemper'd fancy ! Gone, 'tis gone, 

And here I'm left a trembling wretch, to weep 

Unheard, unpitied left, to weep alone ! 

Nor thou, Maria, with me ! Oil, my wife, 
And is this bitter with the bittereft mix'd, 
That I muft lofe thy heavenly company, 
And confolation foothing! Yet, 'tis beft : 
Thy tendernefs, thy prefence, doth but wound 
And ftab to the keeneft quick my burfting heart I 
" I have undone thee!" Can I then iuftain 
Thy killing afpecl, and that tender tear 
Which fecret fteals a-down thy lovely face, 
DiiVunbliftg imiles to cheer me — cheer me, Heavens ! 
Look on the mighty ruin I have pluck'd, 

E 3 PluckM 




4-1 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Pluck'd inftant, uniufpe&ed, in the hour 

Of peace and dear fecurity on her head ! 

And where — O where can cheerfulnels be found ? 

Mine mn ft be mourning ever. Oh my wife, 

" I have undone thee !" — What th' infuriate hand 

Of foes vindictive could not have atchiev'd, 

In mercy would not, I have wrought ! Thy hufband \ 

Thy hufband, lov'd with fuch a fteady flame, 

From youth's firft hour ! — Ev'n he hath on theepluck'd, 

On thee, his foul's companion, life's beft friend, 

Such defclation, as to view would draw 

From the wild lavage pity's deepeft groan ! 

Yes, yes, thou coward mimic, pamper'd vice, 
High praife be fure is thine. Thou haft obtain'd 
A worthy triumph * ! Thou haft pieic'd to the quick 
A weak, an amiable female heart, 
A conjugal heart moft faithful, mcft attach'd : 
Yet can I pardon thee : for, poor buffoon, 
Thy vices rriuft be fed 5 and thou muft live. 
Luxurious live, a foe to God and man j 
Commiilicn'd live, thy poifon to diftufe, 
And taint the public virtue with thy crimes. 
Yes, I can pardon thee — low as thou art, 
And far too mean an object ev'n of fcorn 5 
For thou her merits knew'ft not. Hadft thou known, 
Thou, — callous as thou art to every fenfe 
Of human feeling, every nobler touch 
Of generous fenfibiiity, — even thou 
Couldft not have wanton pierc'd her gentle breail 5 
But at a diftance awful wouldft have ftcoJ, 
And, like thy prototype of oldeft time, 
View'd her juft virtues pafs in triumph by, 
And own'd, how'er reluctant 

March 30, 1777. 

END OF THE THIRD WEEK. 

* Allwiinf to the character of Mrs. Simony, introduced by Mr. root in his 
pUy of l;:e Cozeners. 

WEEK 



D T 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 34 

WEEK THE FOURTH. 

The Trial. 

^READ'ST thou an earthly bar? Thou who fo oft 
In contemplation ferious haft employ'd 
Thy deareft meditations on a bar 
Tremendoufly decifive ! who Co oft 
That bar's important terrors haft difplay'd 
To crowds attentive ; with the folemn theme 
Rapt in thought profound — And beats thy heart 
With throbs tumultuous — fail thy trembling knees, 
Now that in judgment thou muft {land before 
Weak mortals, like thyfelf, and foon like thee, 
Shivering with guilt and apprehenfions dire, 
To anfwer in dread judgment 'fore their God! 

What gives that judgment terror ? Guilt, pale guilt 5 
Co^fcience accufmg ftern ; the fiery law, 
The terrible hand-writing on the wall ! 
But vantfh cbefe,— that mighty day's-man found, 
Who, fmiling on confeffion's genuine tear, 
The meek repentant afpecl, and the hand 
With ready, perfect retribution fraught, 
Urges complete his ranfom, and fets free 
Th* immortal prifoner. — But, ah me! on earth 
Such golden mercv reigns not : here is found 
No potent dayVman ; here no ranfom full, 
No clement mediator. Here ftern law, 
With vifage all unbending, eyes alone 
The rigorous a 61. ConfefTion here is guilt, 
And reftitution perfect, perfect lofs ! 
Ah me the while, here men the judges are ; 
And there, th'Omnifcient mercy's fource and ftream! 

Triumphant coniblation ! Firm in faith, 
And juftify'd by him whofe precious blood 
For man fiow'd liberal, the foul fecure 
Of future acceptation at that bar 
Of trial moil momentous, foars above 

The 



44 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

The world's fevereft trials *, and can view 
Serene the horrors of an earthly bar, 
Though far than death more horrid. Yes, kind death, 
How preferable far thy fight to me ! 
Oh that, without this tedious, dread detail 
Of awful circumftance, — this long, fad pomp 
Of miniftering wretchednefs, thy friendly fhaft 
Had inftant reachM, and piercM my tortur'd heart : 
How had I blefsM the (broke, and been at peace ! 
But thro' a dreary avenue of woe, 
A lengthened vault of black diftrefs and fhame, 
With mournful malancholy fable hung, 
Mult. I be led f , — or ere I can receive 
Thine icy comforts to my chillM life's blood ! 

Welcome, thrice welcome were they. But the call 
Of Heaven^s dread arbiter we wait : His will 
Is rectitude confummate. 'Tis the will 
Parental of high wifdom and pure love. 

* The verfps Conjoined were written by the King of Pruffia. after a defeat ^ 
when one of his general officers had propofed to fet him the example ofieli*. 
•leftru&ion : 

Dans ces jours, pleins d "alarmes, 
La conltance et la fermet6 
Sont les boucliers et les arrnes 
Que j*oppofe a l'dverfitc : 

Que le Deftin me persecute, 
Qu'il prepare ou hate ma chute, 

Le danger ne peut m'ebranler : 
Quand levulgaire eft plein decrainte, 
Que lefpfrar.ee femble eteinte, 

L'homme fort doit fe fignaler. 

A friend having given Dr. Eodd in prifgn a copy ofthefe lines, he was much 
pleafed with them, and immediately paraphrased them as follows : 

In thefe fad moments offevere diftrefs, 

When dangers threaten, and when forrows prefs, 

For my defence beheld what arms are given 

Firmnefs of foul, and confidence in Heaven ! 

With thefe. tho' Fortune hunt me thro' the land, 

Tho' inftant, utter ruin feem at hand, 

Comn<->s'd and felf-collefted I remain, 

J* or ftart at perils, nor of ills complain. 

To mean defpair the low, the fervile Hy, 

When Hope's bright ftar feem- darkend in their flcy : 

Then lhinesthe Chriftain, and deliehts to prove 

His faith unfhaken, and unchang*d his love ! 

+ Segnius irritant animos demifla rer aurem, 
Quam qusfunt oculis fubje&a fidelibus, et quas 
Ipfe fibi tradit Spectator I ' UOR. 

Then 






THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 45 

Then to that will fubmiffive bend, my foul : 
And, while meek refignation to the rod 
Corrective of his juftice and his love 
Obedient bows, — Oh for impartial fearch! 
Oh for a trial ftric~r, to trace the caufe, 
The fatal cavife, whence fprimg the ill deplor'd ! 
And why — fad fpectacle of woe— we ftand 
Thus, fin and forrow funk, at this dread bar ! 

Return, bleft hours — ye peaceful days, leturn ! 
When thro 1 each office of celeftial love 
Ennobling piety my glad feet led 
Continual, and my head each night to reft 
Lulled on the downy pillow of content ! 
Dear were the /hades, O Ham, and dear the hours 
In manly muling 'midft thy forefts pafs'd, 
And antique woods of fober folitude, 
Oh Epping, witnefs to my lonely walks 
By Heaven-direcled contemplation led ! 
Ye days of duty, tranquil nights, return! 
How ill exchang'd for thofe, which bufier fcenes 
To the world's follies dedicate, engrofs'd, 
In fpecious trifling 5 all important deem'd, 
While guilt, O Chefterfield, with feeming gold 
Of prime refinement, thro'' thy foftering fmile, 
And patronage aufpicious ! 

Sought by thee, 
And fingled out, unpatroniz'd, unknown ; 
By thee, whofe tafte confummate was applaufe, 
Whole approbation merit ; forth I came, 
And with me to the taik, delighted, brought 
The upright purpofe, the intention firm 
To fill the charge, to juftify the choice, 
Perchance too flattering to my heart j a heart 4 
Frank, inexpert, unhackney'd in the world, 
And yet eftrangM to guile! But ye, more ikuTd 
In that world's artful ftyle, judges fevere ; - 
Say, in the zenith of bright Stanhope's fun 
(Though fet that fun, alas, in mifty clouds !) 
Say 'mid (I his mitre, whom would not that choice 

Have 



46 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Have flattered ? — and ftill more, when urg'd, approv'd, 

And blefs'd by thee, St. David's ! Honour'd friend 5 

Alike in wifdom's and in learning's fchool 

Advanc'd and fage ! — Short paufe, my mufe, and fad 

Allow, while leaning on affection's arm 

Deep-fighing Gratitude, with tears of truth, 

Bedews the urn, the happy urn, where reft 

Mingled thy aflies, oh my friend ; and hers 

Whofe life bound up with thine in amity 

IndhToluhly firm, felt thy laft pang 

Difrupting as her own 5 gently figh'd forth 

The precious boon : while fprung her faithful foul, 

Indignant without thee to reft below, 

On wings of love, to meet thee in the ikies ! 

Blefl pair ! and envied ! Envied and embaim'd 
In our recording memory, my wife, 
My friend, my lov'd Maria, be our lot 
Like theirs ! — Bat foft,— ah my foreboding thoughts! 
Reprefs the gufhing tear j — return, my fong. 

PlacM thus, and fhelter'd underneath a tree, 
Which feeirfd like that in viiions of the night 
To Babylonia's haughty prince pourtray'd, 
Whofe hight reach'd Heaven, and whofe verdant boughs 
Extended wide their fuccour and their lhadc, 
How did I truft, too confident ! How dream 
That fortune's fmiles were mine ! and how deceiv'd, 
By gradual declenfion yield my truft, 
My humble happy truft on Thee, my God ! 
How ill exchanged for confidence in man, 
In Chefterfields, in princes ! — Wider fcenes, 
Alps ftill on Alps were open'd to my view 5 
And, as the circle in the flood enlarged, 
Enlarged expences call. Fed to the full 
With flattery's light food*, and the puff'd wind 

* So prayfen babes the peacock's ftarry traine, 
And won-iren at bright Argus' blazing eye ; 
But who rewards him e'er the more for thy ? 
Or feeds him once the fuller by a graine ?— — 
Sike praife is fmoke, that fneddeth in the fkie, 
Sike words been winde, and waftenfoon in vair.e, 

S?IK£ER. 

Of 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 47 

Of promifes delufive (t Onward ftill, 

« Pi efs onward," cried the world's alluring voice j 

" The time of retribution is at hand : 

" See the ripe vintage waits thee !" Fool and blind, 

Still credulous I heard, and itili purfued 

The airy meteor glittering thro"" the mire, 

Thro'' brake and bog, till more and more ingulph'd 

In the deceitful o^iag, floundering I lay. 

Nor heard was then the world's alluring voice, 

Or promifes delufive : then not fetn 

The tree umbrageous, with its ample fhade ; 

For me, alas, that tree had made no more ! 

But, ftruggling in the gulph, my languid eye 

Saw only round the barren rufhy moor, 

The flat, wide dreary defart : — Till a hope, 

Dreis'd by the tempter in an angel's form, 

Presenting its fair hand, — imaginM fair, 

Though foul as murkielt Hell, to drag me forth, 

Down to the centre plung'd me, dark and dire 

Of howling ruin 5 — bottomlefs abyfs 

Of dcfolating ftiame, and namelefs woe! 

But, witneis Heaven and earth, 'rriidft this brief ilage, 
This blading period of my chequerd life, 
Tho' by the world's gay vanities allur'd, 
I dane'd, too oft, alas, with the wild rout 
Of thougbtleis fellow- mortals, to the found 
Of folly's tinkling bells ; tho' oft, too oft 
Thofe paftimes fhar'd enervating, which ill 
— Hewc'er by iome judg'd innocent, — become 
Religion's fober character and garb : 
Tho' oft, too oft, by weak compliance hd, 
External feemings, and the ruinous bait 
Of fmcoth politenefs, what my heart condemned 
Unwife it pra&is'ri ; never without pang 5 
Tho' too much influenced by the pleafmg force 
Of native gereroiity, uncurb'd 
And unchaftis'd (as realon, duty taught) 
Prudent ceconomy, in the ibber fchool 
Of parfimonious k&ure j uieful lore, 

An* 



4-S THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

And of prime moment to our worldly weal ; 
— Yet witnefs Heaven and earth, amidft this dream 5 
This tranfient vifion, ne'er fo (lept my foul, 
Or facrific'd my hands at folly's fhrine, 
As to forget Religion's public toil, 
Study's improvement, or the pleading caufe 
Of fufFering humanity. — Gracious God, 
How wonderful a compound, mixture ftrange, 
Incongruous, inconfiftent, is frail man ! 

Yes, my lov'd Charlotte, whofe top-ftone with joy 
My careful hands brought forth, what time expdFd 
From Ham's loft paradife, and driv'n to feek 
Another place of reft ! Yes, beauteous fane, 
To bright religion dedicate, thou well 
My happy public labours canft atteft, 
Unwearied and fuccefsful in the caufe, 
The glorious, honour'd caufe of Him, whofe love 
Bled for a human race. Thou canft atteft 
The Sabbath-days delightful, when the throng 
Crowded thy hallow'd walls with eager joy, 
To hear truth evangelical ; the found 
Of gofpel comfort ! When attentive fat, 
Or at the holy altar humbly knelt, 
Prefuafive, pleafmg patterns — Athol's Duke, 
The poliuYd Hervey, Kingfton the humane, 
Aylefbury and Marchmont, Romney all-rever*d j 
With numbers more — by fplendid titles lefs 
Than piety difiinguim'd and pure zeal. 

Nor, 'midft this public duty's bleft difcharge, 
Pafs'd idle, unimproving, unemploy'd, 
My other days j as if the Sabbath's talk 
Fulfiil'dj the buiinefs of the week was done, 
Or feir'-aliow'd. Witnefs, thrice holy book, 
Pure tranicript of th' Eternal Will to man : 
Witnefs with what afTiduous care I turn'd 
Daily the hallow'd page j with what deep fearch 
Explored thy facred meaning • thro' the round 
Ot leam'd expofitors and grave trod flow, 
And painfully deliberating j the while 

Mv 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 4.9 

My labours unremitting to the world 
Convey'd inftruclion large ; — and mail convey, 
When moulders in the grave the feeble hand, 
The head, the heart, that gave thofe labours * birth. 

Oh happytoil, oh labours well employ'd, 
Oh fweet remembrance to my fickening foul, 
Bleft volumes ! Nor tho' levelPd in the dull 
Of felf-annihilation, mall my foul 
Ceafe to rejoice, or thy preventive grace 
Adoring laud, Fountain of every good S 
For that no letter' d poifon ever ftain'd 
My page, how weak foe'er ; for that my pen, 
However humble, ne'er has trac'd a lin@ 
Gf tendency immoral, whofe black guilt 
It well might wi(h to blot with tears of blood. 
Dear to the chriftian mall my little works, 
— Efrufions of a heart fncere, devote 
To God and duty, happily furvive 
Their wretched mafter j and thro 1 lengthen'd years 
To fouls oppreft, comfort's fweet balm impart, 
And teach the peniive mourner how to dief . 

Thou too, bleft Charity, whofe golden key 
So liberal unlocks the prifon's gate 
At the poor debtor's call $ oh, witnefs thou, 
To cruel taxers of my time and thought, 
All was not loft, all were not miiemploy'd, 
Nor all humanity's fair rights forgot : 
Since thou, fpontaneous effort of the lad, 
My pity's child, and by the firft matur'd, 
Amjdft this flattering fatal sera role, 
Rofe into being, to perfection role, 
Beneath my humble foftering j and at length 
Grown into public favour, thou malt live ; 
And endlefs good diffufc, when fleeps in dull 
Thy haplefs founder now, by direil fate, 
Lock'd in a prifon, whence thy bounty lets, 
And (hall — oh comfort — long let thoufands free. 

* AlHuVrng to " Commentary on the Bible," in three volumes, folio. 

r Ktrcrdng to « Comfort for the Afflicted," a*:d vt Reflexions on Death," 

F Happy, 



53 THOUGHTS IN PRISCN. 

Happy, thrice happy, had my active zeal,— 
Already deemM too active chance, by ibme, 
Whofe frozen hearts, in icy fetters bound 
Of fordid lelfiflmefs, n^er felt the warmth, 
The genial warmth of pure benevolence, 
Love's ardent flame afpiring; — had that flame 
Kindled my glowing zeal into effect, 
And to thy counterpart *exiftence giv'n, 
Lov'd institution : with its guardian aid 
Protecting from the priibiTs ruinous doors, 
Thofe whom thy kindly mercy refcues thence! 
Or, had that zeal, on firm foundation flx'd 
Like thine my favourite Magdalen, — the plan, 

* He intended to have eftablifhed a " Charity for the Loan of Money without 
* 4 intereft, to induitrious tradefmen." Neceffary papers for that end were col- 
lected from Dublin, &c. and the following addrefs, which he wrote and infert- 
ed in the Public Ledger of the ift January 1776, will, in fome meafure, explaift 
his purpofe : 

To the Wealthy in the Commercial World* 

I HAVE often wrflied rnoft fincerely to fee a charitable fund eftablimed in 
this great and trading city, for the beneficent rnroofe of li lending to honeit 
Cw and lndulrrious Tradefmen fmall fums without intereft, and on a reafona- 
" ble fecurity." 

The benef.ts which would arife from fuch an eftablifhment are too obvious tr> 
need enumeration. Aimoft every newfpaper tends more and more to convince 
me of the neceffity of fuch a plan ; for in almoft every newfpaper we read 
A''vertifements from Tradefmen, folicitine little fums in their diftrefs ; and 
offering — poor unhappy men! even premiums for thofe little fums. 

It is not ponYole but that perfon* occupied in trade and commerce muft 
feel for the difficulties of their brethren, and be ready to promote the 
undertaking T would wifh to recommend, although on no interefted motives; 
—for T am no tradefman, nor can any way be benefitted by the plan. Pune 
good-will, and a companionate refpect to the hardfhips and diftreflTes of my 
fellow c»eatiues actuate my heart: And f 1 om thefe motives, I fhail be 
happy to proceed upon, and profecute this plan, with all the efforts and af!i- 
duity I am able, if it fhall be approved by the benevolent, and they will 
teftify that approbation, and deilre of concurrence, by a line directed to D. at 
Ande'rton's Coffee houfe, Fleet-ftreet. In confequence of which, fhould a pro- 
bability of fuccefs appear, a meeting fliall fpeedily be advertifed in the 
papers,' and all meafures purfued to put the good defign into immediate ex- 
ecution, which on fuch a metting nay be judged advifeable. It may be pro- 
per juft to obferve, that in many cities abroad, at Rome in particular, there 
are institutions of this fort : and there has been one eftabl jibed for many 
years at Dublin which is found productive of the happieft confluences. 

It is marie in Scripture one character ift ic of the good man " that he is merci- 
st fill and lendeth,'" and a very fmall fum thus given to a permanent eftabliih- 
inent m?.v enable a man to leiwi for perpetuity! 

How C'.n ve better begin the new year, my worthy and humane country- 
men, than b' entering en a work, which may draw down *ipnn us God's 
bleffine, by our charitable reliet to many fons and daughters of honeft ani 
laborious induftry ? HUMANITY. 

Prefervative 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 5'I 

Prefervative of tender female fame *, 
Fair innocence and virtue, from thofe ills 
Peftru£live, complicate, which only find 
Relief beneath thy hofpitable roof, 
How had I died exulting ! — But, oh raife, 
Infpire fome godlike lpirit, fome great foul, 
Father of mercies, of all love, all good 
Author and finifher ; — thefe, and every work 
Beneficent, with courage to purfue, 
With wifdom to complete ! — Oh crown his zeal | 
While forrowing human nature, by his hand 
CheriuYd and footh'd, to lateft times mall tell, 
And blefs with tears of gratitude his name ! 

Mine is a different fate, — confefs'd, juft Judge, 
The meed of human mixture in my works 
Imperfect, frail : and needing, even the beft, 
Thy pardon and the cleanfing of thy blood, 
Elfe whence the frequent retributions bafe, 
Calumnious and ungrateful, for the deeds 
Of private pity ? Whence, for public afts, 
The ftab opprobrious, and the (landers vile ? 
Or whence, at this dread moment, — from the fight 
$hrowd me in tenfold darknefs ! — Mercy, Heavens ! 

And is it He— th* ingenuous youth, fo oft 
Of ail my being, fortune, comfort, deemM 
The generous, ample fource ? — And is it He, 
In whom, thro' drear misfortune's darkeft night, 
I faw Hope's day-ftar riling? — Angel of peace, 
Amidft his future hours, my life's fad lofs, 
Let not accufmg confeience to his charge 
Impute, diffracting—- to my crimfon'd guilt 
Oh let him lay it, as the forfeit due, 
And juftly paid ! — Would Heaven that it were paid ! 
Oh, that with Rome's firft Caefar, in my robe 
From fight fo killing, mantled up mine eyes, 
I might receive the welcome ftab j figh forth, 
u My Philip, my lovM Stanhope, — Is it thou ? 

* «* A plan for a National Female Seminary" — fince Found among-ft the Ae- 
ther's papers , and which appears to have undergone the infpeclion, and re- 
setted tlie approbation of fome very diftinguiflied names, 

F 2 " — Thcrt 



5* THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

" — Then let me die." 

Yet, tho' thus wounded at this bar I (land 
In pangs unutterable, witnefs Heaven, 
With deep commiferation do I view 
Their jfcdulous anxiety to prove 
A guilt, my heart, — too wounded to deny, 
Wounded by that guilt's fenfe, its bittereit part,— 
Inftant avowed. What need then all this toil ? 
The deed is done. Wound not the fall'n hart,— 
'Tis cruel — that lies bleeding at your feet; 

* I own the whole ; I urge no legal plea. 

* On dire neceffity's imperious call, 

* (Sons of the robe, of commerce, ions of men, 
c That call imperious have you never heard ?) 

* On full intention to repay the whole. 

' And on that full intention's perfeel work, 

€ Free reiteration and complete: on wrong 

c Or injury to none defign'd or wrought, 

c I reft my claim ; — I found my fble defence.' 

€C Groundleis, — 'tis thunder 1 d in my ears — and 

" For in the rigid courts of human law, 

cf No reftitution wipes away th' offence, 

(C Nor does intention juitify." So ipoke 

(And who mail argue?) Judgment's awful voice! 

Hafte then, ye weeping jurymen, and pafs 
Th' awarded fentence. To the world, to fame, 
To honour, fortune, peace, and Stanhope loit, 
What have I more to lofe ? or can I think 
Death were an evil to a wretch like me ! 

Yet, oh ye fons of juftice ! — ere we quit 
This awful court, expostulation's voLce 
One moment hear impartial. Give a while 
Your honeft hearts to nature's touches true, 
Her fine rebutments faithful. Draw afide 
That veil from reaion's clear reflecting view, 
Which practice long, and rectitude iupposM 
X)f laws eftablinYd, hath obftruclive hung. 
But pleads or time, or long prefer iption aught 
In favour or abatement of the wrong 

By 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 53 

By folly wrought, or error? Hoary grown, 
And i'antlify'd by cuftom's habit grey, 
Abiurdity ftalks forth, ftill more ablurd, 
And double fhame reflects upon an age 
Wife and enlightened. Should not equal laws 
Their punimments proportionate to crimes* ; 
Nor, all Draconic, ev*n to blood purine 
Vindictive, where the venial poor offence 
Cries loud for mercy ? Death's the laft demand 
Law can exa& : the penalty extreme 
Of human crime ! and (hall the petty thief 
Succumb beneath its terrors, when no more 
Pays the bold murderer, crimibn'd o'er with guilt? 

Few are the crimes againft or God or man, 
— — Confult th"" eternal code of right or wrong, — ■ 
Which e'er can jwftify this laft extremef , 
This wanton {porting with the human life, 
This trade in blood. Ye fages, then, review, 
Speedy and diligent, the penal code, 
Humanity's difgrace : our nation's firft 
And juft reproach, amid ft its vaunted boafts 
Or equity and mercy : Shiver not 
Full oft your inmoft fouls, when from the bench 
Ye deal out death tremendous? and proclaim 
Th' irrevocable fentence on a wretch 
Pluck'd early from the paths of focial life, 
And immature, to the low grave coniign'd 
For mifdemeanors trivial ! Runs not back, 
Affrighted, to its fountain your chill'd blood, 
When, deck'd in all the horrid pomp of death, 

* Horace's precept muft for ever ftand forth as irrefcagably. juS : 

*« Ad fit 

Regula I peccatis: quae pcenas irroeet squas :: 
Ke Scutica dignum horribili fe<fiere flagello.. M 

Sat. 3. Life. 1. 

+ cc TTe had fometimes exprefied his thoughts about our penal laws, that 
" they were too fanguinary ; — that thty were againft. not only the laws of 
** God', but of nature ;— that his own Cafe was hard", that he mould die for an 
4 ' ae"t which he always declared to be wrong but by which he never 
* 4 intended to injure any one individual ; and that, as the public had for- 
«« given him, he thought he might have been pardoned. But now 'the day 
«' before his execution) he laid all thefe thoughts touching htmfelf afide, 
" though he continued to think in the fame manner of the penal laws to 
*' hii »nd." S&e the 0r4irtar\ 's account. 1 

F3 And 



54 THOUGHTS IN PRISON/ 

And Gothic rage furpafling, to the flames 
The weaker fex,— incredible — you doom ; 
Denouncing punifhments the more fevere, 
As lefs of fcrength is found to bear their force? 
Shame on the favage practice ! Oh {land forth 
In the great caufe, — Companion's, Equity's, 
Your Nation's, Truth's Religion's, Honours caufe, 
—Stand forth, fefte&ing Eden*! Well thou' ft toil'd 
Already in the honourable field : 
Might thy young labours animate, the hour 
Aufpicious is arriv'd. Sages efteem'd, 
And venerably learn'd, as in the fchool 
Of legal fcience, fo in that of worth 
And fentiment exalted, fill the bench: 
And lo ! the imperial Mufcovite, intent 
On public-weal, a bright example mines 
Of civilizing juftice. Sages rife : 
The caufe, the animating pattern calls. 
Oh, I adjure you, with my parting breath, 
By all your hopes of mercy and of peace, 
Ey all the blood henceforth unjuftly fplit, 
Or wantonly by all the forrows def p, 
And fcalding tears flied for that blood fo fpilt ! 
In God's tremendous name, lo, I adjure, 
Without procraftination to the talk 
Important that you hafte ! W 7 ith equal hand 
In fcaies of temperate juftice, balance well 
The claims of pleading mercy ! Unto crimes 
Inflictions }«ft and adequate affigftj 
On reformation or example fole, 
And ail impartial, conflantly intent, 
Banifh the rage for blood ! for tortures fell, 
Savage, reproachful. Study to reftore 
Its yonng, its ufeful members to the ftate. 
Well difciplin'd, corrected, moraliz'd ; 
Preferv'd at once from mame, from death, from Hell, 
Men, rationals, immortals, — Sons of God. 
Onprofperous be your labours, crown'd your zeal! 

* See Mr. Eden's admirable book oa i'enal Laws. 

So 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 55 

So fhall the annals of our Sovereign's reign, 
DiftinguifrTd by your virtue, — noble fruit 
Or that high independence He beftow'd * 
So freely from the treafury of his love 
To genuine juftice — down to- future times, 
Transmitting the rich bleiimg, ilvine renownM 
With truer! glory 5 not by hers iurpaiVd, 
Trf immortal Legislator of the north ! 

Ah me unhappy ! to that Sovereign's ear 
RefolvM to bring thofe truths which, labouring long, 
Have lain, and toft upon my anxious thoughts f : 
Thence too am I excluded ! Fatal frroke, 
And wounding to my peace ! Rigour extreme 
Of angry vengeance ! ' ' Nay, it recks not now," 
Oft, mid ft the tempeft of my grief, I cried, 
" It recks not now what falls me ! From the houfe 
" Of him I honourVI, (hut! Him whole lov'd fire 
(i My mufe in drains elegiac weeping fung J, 
*' Mixing her tribute with a nation's tears ! 
fi Him to whofe high-born race, — of liberty 
u Firm friends and fautors — from my earlieft youth, 
u My heart, devoted, willing homage paid, 
" And facred reverence : So paternal love 
** And fo my college taught, delightful Clare." 
Dear ever to my memory for hours 
In innocence and peaceful ftudy paft ; 
Nor lefs for thee, my friend, my Lancafter ! 
Bleft youth, in early hour from this life's woes 
In richeft mercy borne ! Had I but died, 
Oh had I died for thee, how had I fhunn'd 
This harm feverity, — excluiion iad 
From my lov'd royal mafter ! How efcap'd 
Its ills attendant 1 — Reputation dies, 
The darling of my foul, beneath the ftroke! 
Wild, wanton curies tear my mangled frame ! 

* Referring to the independence of the judges, fettled by the King, as al- 
molt one of the firft ac~ts of his reign. 

i See my Sermon on the Injuiiice, &c. of Capital Punifhments. 
I See my " Elegy on the Death of Frederick Prince of Wales.*' Poems, p. 63 

My 



56 THOUGHTS IN ?RISON. 

My fphere of ufefulnefs contracted fhrinks; 
And infamy herfelf with " ghaftly fmiles'* 
My ruin ridicules 1 Turn, turn, my brain, 
Diftra&ed, madden'd, turn ! Of reafon more, 
Religion, duty, eminence, dream not : 
The door of mercy's clos'd. Thee — oft from thee 
Mercy, fweet Heaven, have I fought and found j 
From fellow-mortals feldom could I find 
How humbled e'er, or penitent, for faults ! 
—And who of erring mortals faultleis breathes? 
Mercy that gift of thine, which moft adorns 
The judge's veftment, and the monarch's crown. 

Adieu, then, to its hope; its earthly hope, 
Elfewhere we'll leek it. Forth — oh forth, my friends 5 
My generous, fupporting, weeping friends, 
Forth from the bar conducf me. It is paft. 
Juftice has done her office. Mercy's fled j 
And fmiling, lo ! fhe fits upon a cloud 
Of fleecy whitenefs, ting'd with azur'd gold, 
And beams ineffable compofure on me ! 
Light fits my bofom'd mafter on his throne 5 
Airy ard difencumber'd feels my foul ? 
And, panting, whiles to fpring inftant up 
To that white cloud,-— the golden vehicle 
To realms of reft immortal ! In my eyes, 
So languid late, and all fuffus'd with tears, 
Methinks I fee hope'? lamp rekindled bright 5 
A living luftre j fhedding like the fun, 

After thick mifts, illumination's fmile 

O'er all my countenance, marr'd, dimnf d, and wan* 
Cheerly my friends, oh cheerly ! Look not thus 

With pity's melting ibftnefs I That alone 

Can make my fortitude. All is not loft. 

Lo I have gain'd, on this important day 

A victory confummate o'er myfeif, 

And o'er this life a vicfory. n hilthis day— 

My birth-day to eternity — Ig've gain'd 

Difmiflion from a world, where for a while, 

Like you, like all, a pilgrim pafling poor, 

A traveller 



THOUCHTS IN PRISON. 57 

A traveller, a ftranger, I have met 
But ftranger treatment, rude and harfh ! So much 
T dearer, more defir'd, the home I feek 
Eternal of my father and my God ! 

Ah little thought ye. profecutors prompt, 
To do me good like this ! little intend 
For earthly poverty to give th" exchange 
Of wealth eternal ! Cheronea's fage, 
Thy dogmas here, ib paradoxal deem'd 
By weak half thinkers * — fee how amply proved 
How verfify'd by men I judg'd my foes ; — 
Friends in difguiie, Heaven's infhuments of good ; 
Freely, triumphantly, my foul forgives 
Each injury, each evil they have wrought, 
Each tear they've drawn, each groan they've cofl my hearty 
Guiltlefs tow'rds them, uninjur'd. Haplefs men ! 
Down do I lock, with pity : fervent beg, 
And unremitting from all-gracious Heaven 
Eternal blefrlngs on you ! Be your lives, 
Like mine, true convertites to grace, to God ' 
And be your deaths, — ah, there all difference ends- 
Then be our deaths like his, th 1 atoning juftj 
Like his, the only righteous, our lad end ! 

But oh, oblivious memory ! baneful woe, 
Which thus in dull forgetfuinefs can fceep 
My faculties; forgetfuinefs of her 
My better felf, for whom alone I wifh, 
Thus fall'n to remember that I am ! 
My wife, my foul's dear partner in diftrefs, 
Where fits Hie ? lives me? Ah not lives but drags 
The tedious, torturing, horrid, anxious hours 
Of this dire day ! — In iblemn fiience wrapt, 
— ExprefTive fiience motionlefs, compos'd, 
The melancholy mourner meekly waits 
The awful ifiue ! From her lovely eyes 
Drops not a tear ! not ev'n a figh is heard 
From her deep-wounded heart: Nor through her lips, 
1 Unfever'd from the iucklefs morn till night, 

* See Plutarch " On the benefits deducible from enemies. Morals, Vol. I. 

Mute 



58 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Mute fufferer, deals a murmur * ! Gentle dove, 
So, in the mournful abfence of thy mate, 
Perhaps or levellM by the fowler's art, 
Or lur'd in net infidious, fitteft thou alone 
Upon the bared bough ; thy little head 
Neftling beneath thy filvery wings 5 while hang 
Thy pennons, late lb glofly, (hivering down 
UnplumM, neglected, drooping ! Thro' the day 
So tried, my tender friends, — another talk, 
And heavier yet, remains to be performed. 
Oh, with the balm of comfort, with the voice 
Of foothing foftnefs, the fad truth unfold ! 
Approach the beauteous mourner, all rever'd 5 
And tell her, " that her hufband triumphs, lives; 
* € Lives tho" condemned ; lives to a nobler life \ 
" Nor, in the giadfome view of that high life, 
€C Feels he to death reluctance : Bleft with her, 
* ( Indifferent in his choice to live or die 1" 

Be the decifion, thine, Father of life! 
Thou gaveft, thou haft right to take away ; 
In each alike beneficent i If thou 
Haft pleafure in me, once more fhall I ihare 
Thy hallow' d fervices, my hearf s chief joyj 
If not with happy David — oh like his 
Could my fong flow repentant — every thought 
Uniting cries with reugnation's voice, 
" Do with me, Lord, as it mall feem thee goodf P 

Thus fupplic3ting, down my weary head 
To (lumber on its wretched pillow funk, 
O'erpower'd, opprefs'd. Nor on the main maft high 
RockM by the billowing tempeft, and the dam 
Of furious furges, the poor mip-boy fleeps 
More foundly, than my powers o'erwrought, amidft: 
The din of defperate felons, and the roar 
Of harden'd guilt's mad mi > night orgies loud! 

But, fancy free, the bufy foul was wake 3 

* " I Speechlefs fat ; — nor plaintive word, 
** No; murmer, from my lips was heard." 

Merrick's Pfaltns. p. S9* 
+ 2 Sam, xv. 25, 26. 

Anticipation 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. $9 

Anticipation pleafing of its ftate, 
When fleeps its clayey prifon in the grave, 
And forth it burfts to liberty ! Methought 
—Such was the vifion— in a lowly vale 
Myfelf I found, whofe living green was decked 
With all the beauteous family of Spring j 
Pale primrofe, modeft violet, hare- bell blue, 
Sweet fcented eglantine of fragrance rich, 
And permanent the rofe : golden jonquil, 
And polyanthus variegate of hue, 
With lilies dale-delighting. Thro 1 the midft 
Meandering of pure cryftal flowM a ftream 
The flowery banks reflecting : On each iide, 
With homely cots adorn'd, whole 'habitants, 
When forrow-funk, my voice of comfort footh/dj 
When ficknefs worn, my hand of care relievM, 
Tended, and, miniftering to all their wants, 
Inftructed in the language of the ikies. 
Dear was the oflice, cheering was the toil, 
And fomething like angelic felt my foul ! 

When liu'd, methought, bv one of glittering hue 
(Bright gleam'd the coronet upon his brow, 
Rich glow'd his robe of crimlon, ermine deckYi) 
I toilM to gain a neighbouring mountain's top, 
Where blaz'd preferment's temple. So my guide 
With imiie complacent taught and led me on, 
Softening with artful fpeech the tedious way, 
And arduous ever. As I rofe, the view 
Still gloomier ieem'd, and dreary 5 the ftrait path 
Still nraighter, and more (harp the pointed briars 
Entangling \ With infulting iheers the crowd, 
Preffing the fame bad road, jollied me by, 
Or threw me proftrate ; till fatigued and faint 
With feeble voice, exhaufred quite, I cried, 
€i Oh to my vale reltore me ! to my cots, 
f* IUuftrlous guide ! my miniftrations bleft, 
u Angelical and blefling I" — With a look 
Of killing fcorn he eyed me : Inftant down, 
,Piccipitary dam'd o'er me craggy rocks, 

Tumbling 



60 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Tumbling tumultuous ; and in dungeon dark, 
IUurnin'd only by the furious glare 
Of lynx and tygers eyes, thro' hunger fierce, 
And eager to devour, trembling I lay ! 

When, in a moment, thro' the dungeon's gloom 
Burft light refplendent as the mid-day fun, 
From adamantine mield of Heavenly proof, 
Held high by one *, of more than human port, 
Advancing flow : while on his tov/ring creft 
Sat fortitude unfhaken .* at his feet 
Crouch 1 d the haif-faminVd lavages ! From earth 
He raised me, weeping, and with look of peace 
Benignant, pointed to a crimfon crofs 
On his bright fhield pourtray'd. A milder form, 
Yet of celeilial fweetnefs, — iuch as oft 
My raptur'd e)'es have in the tablet trac'd 
Of unaffected penitence; of her 
Pleafing fimilitude — the weeping fair 
Early from royal, but unhallow'd love, 
To God's fole fervice flying * — Fam'd Le Brim, 
Thy glowing pencil's mailer-piece ! Such leem'd 
Repentance, meek approaching. From the den, 
IIluminM and defended by faith's mield, 
My trembling feet me led ; and having borne 
Thro' perils infinite, and terrors wild 
And various, — fainting almofi my fick foul- 
She left me at a gate of glittering gold, 
Which open'd infcantaneous at the touch 
Of homely potter f , clad in wclfey grey} 
And ever bending lowly to the ground 
His modefr. countenance ! But what a fcene 
—Admitted thro' the portal — on ray fight 
Transported, rufli'd ! High on a fapphire throne, 
Amidit aflame like carbuncle, fat Love, 
Beaming forth living rays of light and joy- 
On choral crowds of fpirits infinite, 

* Faith. 

+ Madame de la Yaliere. This fine picture is in the Chapel of the Carmelite 
2- uri? at P<.ris. 

* Humility, 

In 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON, 6l 

In immortality and glory cloth'd ; 
And hymning lofty ftrains to minftrelfy 
Of golden harps accorded, in his praife, 
Love, uncreate, effential $ Love, which bled ; 
Which bleeding blanch'd to pureft white their robes, 
And with eternal gold adorn'd their brows ! 

Diflblv'd, methought, and all my fenfes rapt, 
In vifion beatific, to a bank 
Of purple amaranthus was I borne 
By a iuperior genius. His white wings 
Diltilling panacea, dove-like fpread 
Refrefhing fragrance o'er me : Firm of brow 
And mafcuiine he feem'd — th 1 ennobling power 
Angelic, deftin'd in the human heart 
To nourifh friendfhip's flame ! Uprais'd my eyes 
As from a trance returning— " Spirit belov'd, 
" And honour'd ever!" anxious {trait I cried, 
« c Thrice welcome to my wifhes ! Oh impart— 
<( For you can tell — in thefe delightful realms 
* ( Of happinefs fupernal, fhail we know, — 
« Say, mail we meet and know thofe deareft friends^ 
*'* Thofe tender relatives, to whole concerns 
« c You minifter appointed ? Shall we meet 
*' In mutual amity ? mutual converfe hold, 
u And live in love immortal ? — Oh relieve 
" My aching heart's folicitude ; and fay, 
<c Here mail I meet, here know, in boundlefs blifsj 
" Here view tranfported, her, my life's beft friend, 
" My forrows faithful foother I" — Gufhing tears 
Impetuous ftopp'd my voice \ and I awoke 
To earth, to night, to darknefs, and a jail ! 

April 14, 1777. 

END 0? THE FOURTH WEEK. 

G WEEK 



k% THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

WEEK THE FIFTH. 

futurity. 
16 rpO death devote 1" Thus in the vernal bloom 

■*- Of redolent youth and beauty, on the crofs 
Hung high her motto * ; — fhe, in name and choice 
Of that far better part, like her fo fam'd 
In {lory evangelical, — Sweet faint, 
Friend of my foul, and f bother of my grief, 
Shall I then dread in age, and worn with woe, 
To meet the king of terrors ? — Coward fear 
Of what we all muff meet : The primal curfe 
Of our fir ft father refts on all his race, 
And " Duft to duft," the charter of mankind! 

But, were it poftlble, oh ! who would wifh 
To ftretch the narrow fpan, grown tedious, dale, 
With dull recurrence of the fame dull a&s, 
Ev'n in its happieft itate ! A toilfome care, 
A wearying round of clothing, food, and fleep : 
While chequer'd over with a thoufand ills 
Inevitably painful '- — In our frame 
Dwell (death's artillery) difeafes dire, 
And potent to diflodge the brittle life 
With agonies heart-rending! In the foul 
Lurks fin, the ferpent, with her fiery ft ing 
Of forrow, rankling in the confcience deep, 
Source of all mental miiery ! — From without, 
In clofe battalion, a black troop of ills 
Level their deep-drawn arrows at our peace ; 
And fail not, as we pafs thro 1 life's bad road, 
To wound th 1 unguarded traveller ! witnefs you 
Who groan diftrefs'd beneath oppreflion's fcourge 5 
Ingratitude's fharp tooth 5 the canker'd tongue 
Of flander 5 fortune's lofs 3 or, bitterer far, 
The lofs of fame, and foul- connected friends ! 

Thus tax'd, thus wretched, can the man be wife 
Who wimes to retain fo poor a boon ? 

* Mifs MaryBofanquet, whofe motto, encircling a crofs, is, " Devoted to 
Death." From fourteen years of age fhe dedicated herfelf to fincere religion and 
to the prefent hour has perfevered in the mod exemplary line of duty. Her letters 
to the author, in his iaft diftrefs, afforded him peculiar comfort. 

Who 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 63 

Who fears to render the depofit up 

To his bled hands who gave it ? And who thus 

Beneficent hath rang'd his moral plan, 

Thus good with evil mix'd ; from earth's poor love 

(School of probation) futfering man to wean, 

And raife his hopes to heaven ! Silence then 

The whiiper of complaint ; low in the duft 

Diflatisfaclion's daemons growl unheard ! 

All, all is good, all excellent below : 

Pain is a blefling ; forrow leads to joy, 

Joy permanent and folid ! Every ill 

Bears with it love paternal : nay, ev'n death, 

Grim death itfelf, in all its horrors clad, 

Is man's fupremeft privilege ! It frees 

The foul from prifon, from foul fin, from woe, 

And gives it back to glory, reft, and God ! 

When will its welcome meflage lay at peace 
My burden 'd, beating heart ? — Oh ft range ! to point 
Thy darts, inexorable tyrant, there, 
Where life laughs crown'd with roles j when thefe arras, 
Familiar to thy fifter Sorrow's fold, 
Would fo delighted hug thee ! But thou lov'il 
Full oft the nobleft quarry, higheft aim : 
Lov'ft, unfufpecled, and with iilent ftep, 
To fteal on the fecure : Lov'ft to deal round 
Tremendous and impartial thy ftern ftrokes, 
AfTerting terrible o'er human-kind 
Thy empire irrefiftible : And now 
At monarchs, now at mimics, grinning fcorn, 
Thy hand indifferent hurls the twanging fhaft. 

Ah, what a groupe of primeft deer lie pierc'd, 
Thou Hunter all- victorious, at thy feet 5 
Since to thy empire dedicate I fell 
From life's bright hope, and languifh'd in this grave, 
This living, doleful iepulchre immur'd ! 

Not all thy gold or orient pearl could fave 
Thee, Lufitania's monarch, from the ftroke 
Impending long and dread ! Nor, Terrick*, thee, 

* Bifliop of London. 

G z Thy 



64. THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Thy mitre and thy rochet ! Enfigns bleft, 
When worn with fanctity ; then furely changed 
For crown cf gold, and robe of fpotiefs white 1 

See, neither can the coronet, nor garb 
Of errahrd pomp, from Temple* turn afide 
The levelPd blow j nor, higher far in price, 
Th' uplifted fhield of Janflen's honeft heart I 
Lo ! too, as if in fcorn of purpled pride, 
And all life's glories, in this high parade 
Funereal marches, tragic- aclor now 
He who fo late light on the comic fock 
Trode the gay ftage, and bade with laughter's burft 
Involuntary the throng'd theatres relbund ! 
Ah, food for worms, poor Woodward, thou, no lefs 
Than patriots, princes, counteffes and priefts ! 
Death fcorns diftinclions : But, defpotic power, 
Clotrfd in his direft terrors, here he reigns, 
Here revels ! Here, with bittereft vengeance fhak«s 
O'er trembling convict, s his determin'd fhaft, 
And gluts himfelf with horror ! See him lead 
From yonder darkfome cell, all pale with woe, 
That ftranger-f* finking ! who, in Jucklefs hour, 
With rafli hand pierc'd the bofom he ador'd, 
Nor drank of comfort more ! half in his heart 
The black lance fettering flicks ; and death himfelf, 
However relentlefs, ere he drives it home, 
Of ftrange commiferation feels a pang, 
Reluctant to his office ! — 

But, that fliriek— 
Thrilling with dread— whence is it ? 'Tis the voice 
Of female mifery, burfting thro' the crowd 
To the lone dungeon : view that lovely formj, 

* Countefs of Temple. 

+■ Alluding to Tolofa, a poor unhappy Spaniard, latelv executed for the murder 
of his female friend. He took fcarce 'any fuftenance from the time of the fact, 
and was more than half dead when conveyed to the place of execution. 

j This alio alludes to a miferable catattrophe, which happened her on the 
morning of a late execution. The poor young woman who came to vifit her huf- 
band, had lain in butfeven days. As fooii as the hunSand's fetters were knocked 
off, he ftepped afide, and cut his throat in a dilmal manner ; but not quite fuflti- 
ciently to rlnifh his exiftence ;— And in that ihocking itate— paid his debt— at the 
deftined place. 

Decked 



^ 



«ir Classics . 




niyS-Cprbauld. IrmUdffrC.CooluJPata7ix>Jtzr£cnvJki0 r 6.i [ $j& EngrwtdTty cyfarrtru 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 6$ 

Deck'd In the neater! white, — yet not (6 white 
And wan as her wild vifage : " Keep me not,"" 
Raving flie cries, " Keep me not, cruel, from him. 
*' He dies this morn ; I know it ! he's condemn'd 5 
" The dreadful judge has done it ! He muft die, 
" My hufband ! and I'm come, clad in my beft, 
€f To go and fuffer with him ! I have brought 
<c Sweet flowers to cheer him, and to ftrew his corfe, 
" Pale, pale, and fpeechlefs lies it! — Hufband, come! 
" The little infant, fruit of our glad loves, 
<( Smil'd on me, as with parting breath I bleft, 
(( And kifs'd the dear babe for thee ! 'Tis but young ; 
M 'Tis tender yet 5 — feven days is young in life : 
(i Angels will guard my little innocent : 
m Thy'll feed it, tho' thou could'ft not find it food, 
" And its poor mother too ! — And fo thou dy'ft ! 
" For me and it thou dy'ft ! But not alone, 
" Thou malt not go alone ; I will die with thee : 
" Sweet mercy be upon us ! Hence, hence, hence !" 
Impetuous then, her white arms around his neck 
She threw 5 and, with deep groans would pierce a rock, 
Sunk fainting, Oh the huioand's, father's pangs, 
Stopping all utterance ! Up to Heaven he roll'd 
His frantic eyes 5 and (taring wildly round 
In defperation's madnefs, to his heart 
Drove the deftruclive fteel ! — Fell death, 
Would'ft thou a fuller triumph ? — Oh my wife, 
How difmal to our ears the mrieks, the groans ! — 
And what a crowd of wild ideas prefs 
Diftracling on the foul ! " Merciful Heaven, 
« c In pity fpare us ! Say, It is enough, 
« And bid the avenging angel flay his hand V 

Death bars the plea ; and with this thundering ftalk 
Brufhing befide us, calls, in folemn found, 
Heed to his dart grief-pointed. Its keen ftroke, 
Ah gentle Eleonora* ! gives at once 
Relief to thy o'er-burden'd breaft ! to ours 

* Mrs. Dodd's fifter ; who, in the midft of our forrows, did — what fhe never 
did before — augment them, by dying of a -heart broken with grief for our 
calamity. Oh roifery ! * 

G ^ Ahguifli 



66 THOUGHTS INT PRISON. 

AnguiiTi unutterable ! 'Tis ours he wounds, 
Thou amiable friend ! — whofe languid eye 
Ne'er rais'd a look from earth fince that fad hour 
When funk my fun ! Thou, who from earlieft youth 
Haft humbly i ought thy God, thou art at peace : 
Happy, thrice happy, on that golden more, 
Where from the toiling of thefe troublous waves 
We foon mall land. Oh flay affectionate, 
Oh wait, and welcome us ! Or, if in Heaven 
Bleft faints retain concern for thofe on earth 
Held in the dearefl amity, become 
Thy darling lifter's gurdian ! As from youth, 
From childhood's dwan, her dear maternal guide, 
Be now, lov'd fpirit, in this hour of woe 
Her angel-comfort, her fupport ! Alas, 
What talk I of fupport ! thou mercy's God ! 
When ail her conducl , by the grace infpir'd— 
When all her patient gentlenefs and love, 
Her fortitude unparallel'd, and peace, 
Have thee their Author: Be the glory thine ! 

But fay, my foul, 'mid ft thefe alarming calls, 
This dread familiarity with death ; 
Our common debt, from infancy's fhfr. cry 
Denounc'd, expected, tho' its fure approach 
Lurks in uncertainty's obfcureft night ; — - 
Our common debt, which babes and paired feers, 
Princes and pilgrims, equally muft pay ; — 
Say, caiift thou feel reluctance to di (charge 
The claim inevitable ? Senfelefs he, 
Who in life's gaudieft moments fondly ftrives 
To turn his eyes unheeding from the view, 
Inftructive. 'Midft thofe moments, deep it dwelt 
On mv reflecting mind* ! a mind which iiv'd 
More in the future than the prefent world ; 
Which frequent call'd by duty's folemn voice 
From earth's low icen&s, on thofe fublimer far 
Hath ever thought delighted ; and thofe thoughts 
Conveying to mankind, in them defires 

•Reflections ou Death— Thoughts in Epiphany--Sernion on Mutual Knowledge ,&c 

Its 






THOUGHTS IH PRISON. 67 

Its real tranfcript, its refembiance true 
May be furvey'd — the picture of itfelf. 
For, whatfoe'er may be our earthly Hate, 
The mind's the man. My humble labours, then, 
When refts my part corporeal in the dull, 
Hang up my living portrait ! — And to give 
Thofe labours all their force, iurnmon'd I itand 
By awful Providence, to realize 
The theoretic leffons I have taught. 
And lo ! composed, I fix my dying feal 
In atteftation to their truth, their power, 
Felt at my heart, my inmoft confcience felt 5 
Imparting triumph o^er life's love $ o'er death 
Confummate exultation! while my foul 
Longs to go forth, and pants for endleis day* 
But who can wonder, that amid ft the woes, 
Like a fwoln torrent, which with frightful roar 
Have burft deftrucllve o'er me ; 'mid ft the lofs 
Of all things dear, Fame, Honour Peace, and Reft \ 
Amidft the cruel fpoiling of my goods, 
The bittereft rancour of envenom" 1 d fpite, 
And calumny unfeeling* ; — what fur prize 
That my weanM foul, above this worldly wreck, 
"With anxious expectation waits the call 
From malancholy mourning ami din grief, 
To everlafting giadnefs ? Powerful Hope, 
And all-fufficient to iuftain the foul, 
Tho' walking thro' the darkeft vale of woe 1 
Who (hall diiprove that Hope ? or who pretend 
By fubtie fophiftry that foul to rob 
Of its chief anchor, choiceil privilege, 
And nobleft coniblation — w Stedfaft Faith, 
" In great Futurity's extended fcene : 

I ** Ererni r y of Being?" All things round 

" Arife in brighter! proof: I fee it, feel it, 
Thro' all my faculties, thro' all my powers, 
Pervading irrefiftible. Each groan 

* Numherlcfs letters, of n rani unchriftUn, horrid, an'l cruel nature,, were 
continually fent to him in the height or hisdiftrelTes. Vet fogae of thei'e Letter 
B'^rcfsibfcribed, A Lady, A Cbriftian, or, A Chriftiao Brother. 

Sen/ 



68 THOUGHTS IN PRISON.. 

Sent from my farrowing heart ; each icalding tear 

From my convicted eyes ; each fervent prayer 

By meek repentance oifer'd np to Heaven, 

AfTerts my immortality? proclaims 

A pardoning Deity and future world, 

Nor lefs the thought, chill, comfortlefs, abhorr'd, 

Of loath' d annihilation ! — From the view, 

Humiliating, mean, unworthy man, 

Almoft unworthy reptiles, — Glad I turn, 

And triumph in exiftence ! Nay, each ill 

And every mundane trouble preaches loud 

The fame important truth. I read it fair 

And legibly engraved on all below: 

On ail the inequalities difcern'd 

In this perplexing, mix'd, and motley fcene j 

In every rank and order of mankind * ; 

Nay, in the wifeft fyftem of our laws, 

Inadequate, imperfect., — and full oft 

Unjuft and cruel ; in this difmal jail, 

And in the prouder! palaces alike 

I read, and glory to trace out the marks 

Irrefragably clear of future life; 

Of retribution's juft and equal ftate. 

So reafon urges j while fair Nature's felf, 
At this fweet feafon f , joyfully throws in 
Her atteftation lovely : bids the fun, 
All bounteous, pour his vivifying light, 
To rouie and waken from their wint'ry death 
The vegetable tribe ! Frefh from their graves, 
At his refiftlefs fummons, ftart they forth, 
A verdent refurre&ion ! In each plant, 
Each flower, each tree to blooming life reftor'd, 
I trace the pledge, the earneft, and the type 
Of man's revival ; of his future rife 
And victory o'er the grave, — compell'd to yield 

* See Macleane's Anfwer to Jenyns, &c. p. 52. 
•f spring. See my Poem on the Epiphany, ver. 131, &c. I would have 
that Poem co-fidered, in dependence with this, as i«y ferious thoughts on 
thefe a'.vful fubjedb. in an early period of my lite; and which, in this laft 
and dreadful one, 1 find no »eafon to alter. 

Her 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 69 

Her facred, rich depofit, from the feed 
Corrupt and mortal, and immortal frame 
Glorious and incorruptible 5 like his, 
The Sun of righteoufnefs, whofe living power 
The mighty work mall operate ! Yes, bright fource 
Of fpiritual life ! — the immaterial world 
Pervading, quickening, gladdening, — in the rays 
Full-orbM of revelation, thy prime gift, 
I view difplay'd, magnificent, and full, 
What reaion, nature, in dim darknefs teach, 
Tho' vifible, not diftinct : I read with joy 
Man^s high prerogative ; tranfported read 
The certain, clear difcovery of life 
And immortality, announc'd by thee, 
Parent of truth, celeftial viiitant, 
Fountain of all intelligence divine ! 
Of that high immortality the King, 
And of that life the Author ! How man mounts j> 
Mounts upon angel- wings, when fiePd, fecurM 
In that fublime inheritance $ when feen 
As a terreftrial ftranger here j a god 
ConnVd a while in prifon of the flefh, 
Soon, foon to foar, and meet his brother-gods 
His fellows, in eternity ! — How creeps, 
How grovels human nature • What a worm, 
An infect of an hour, poor, {infill, fad; 
Defpis'd and defpicable, reptile-like 
Crawls man, his moment on his ant-hill here? 
—Marking his little mining path with {lime,— 
If limited to earth's brief round 
His painful, narrow views ! Like the poor moth, 
By lights delufive to deft ruction led 9 
Still ftruggling oft its horrors to evade, 
. Still more and more invoked $ in flame he lives 
His tranfient toilfome minute, and expires 
In luffbcating fmoke. 

Hume, thou art gone! 
Amidft the catalogue of thoie mow'd down 

B 



/ 



JO THOUGHTS IN PRISON, 

By time's huge fey the, late noted # ; Thou, be fure, 
Waft not forgotten ! Author thou has gain'd 
Thy vaft ambition's fummit : Fame was thine j 
Wealth too, beyond thy ampleft wifh's bound, 
Encompafs'd thee : and lo, the pageant ends 1 
For who without companion's generous tear, 
Thy mind at once capacious and humane, 
Can view, to truth, to hope immortal dead ? 
Thy penetrating reafon, iubtle, ftrong, 
Hoodwinked by dark infatuation's veil : 
And all thy fine and manly lenfe employ'd 
Ev'n on eternity's thrice awful verge, 
To trifle with the wonders of a ftate 
Refpeclably alarming ! of a ftate 
Whofe being gives to man — had given to thee 
(Accepted by the humble hand of faith) 
True glory, iblid fame, and boundlefs wealth ! - 
Treasures that wax not old. 

Oh the high bleflings of humility ! 
Man's firft and richeft grace ! Of virtue, truth, 
Knowledge and exaltation, certain fource, 
And mod abundant : Pregnant of all good j 
And, poor in fliew, to treafures infinite 
Infallibly conducting ; her fure gift ! 
So, when old Hyems has deform' d the year, 
We view, on fam'd Burgundia's craggy cliffs, 
The flow vines, fcarce diftincl, on the brown earth 
Neglecled lie and grovelling 5 — promife poor, 
From plant i'o humble, of the fwelling grape 
In glowing clufters purpling o'er the hills :— 
When all impregnating rolls forth the fun, 
And from the mean ftalk pours a lufcious flood 
of juice ne£tareous thro' the laughing land I 

Nervous efTayift ! haply had thy pen, 
Of mafculine ability, this theme 
Purfued intelligent ; from lowly heart 
Delineating true the features mild 

* see Mr. Hume's Life written by himfelf ; with a letter by Dr. Smith gir. 
«g an account of his Death. 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON* 71 

Of genuine humility 5 mankind, 
Now 'wilder'd by thy fophiftry, had blefs'd 
And honoured well thy teaching : whilft thyfelf 
Secure had fail'd and happy, nor been caft, 
On pride's black rocks, or empty fcorn's bleak fhore ! 

Proud fcorn, how poor and blind — how it at once 
Deftroys the fight, and makes us think we fee ! 
While defperate ridicule in wit's wild hands 
Implants a dangerous weapon ! How it warps 
From clear difcernment, and conclufions juft, 
Ev'n captive reafon's felf ! How gay fce'er— • 
(Ah mifplac'd gaiety on fuch a theme) 
In life's laft hour ! — on Charon's crazy bark, 
On Tartarus and Elifium, and the pomp 
Solemn and dreaded of dark pagans Heil ! 
Thy reafoning powers knew well, full well to draw 
Deductions true from fables grofs as thefe, 
By poets fancy heighten'd ! Well thou knew'ft 
The deep intelligence, the folid truth 
Conceal'd beneath the myflic tale ; well knew'ft 
Fables like thefe, familiar to mankind 
In every nation, every clime, through earth 
Widely dilfeminate, through earth proclaim'd 
In language ftrong, intelligent and clear, 
" A future ftate retributive." Thou knew'ft, 
That in each age the wife embrac'd the truth, 
And gloried in an hope, how dim foe'er, 
Which thou amidft the blaze, the noon-day blaze 
Of chriftian information, madly fcorn'dft 
And diedft infulting ! Hail of ancient times, 
Worthies and fam'd believers ! Plato, hail ! 
And thou, immortal Socrates, of Rome 
Prime ornament and boaft ! my Tully, hail $ 
Friend and companion of my (tudious life, 
In eloquence and found philofophy 
Alike fuperlative ! — with minds enlarg'd, 
Yet teachable and modeft, how ye fought, 
You and your kindred fouls, — how daily dug 
For wifdom as the labourer in the mines i 

How 



?3 THOUGHTS IN FRISO?f, 

How groped, in fancy's and dark fable's night, 
Your way affiduous, painful ! How diicerrfd 
By the mind's trembling, unamfted fight,-— 
(Or, haply, aided by a fcatter'd ray 
Or diftant revelation, half extinct) 
The glimmering of a dawn ; the twinkling ftajf 
Of day-light far remote I How iigh'd fincere 
For fuller information ! and how long'd, 
How panted for admimon to that world 
O'er which hung veils impervious ! Sages, yes, 
Your fearch ingenuous proves it : every page 
Immortal of your writing (peaks this truth ! 
Hear, ye minute philosophers ^ ye herd 
Of mean half-thinkers, who chief glciy place 
In boldnefs to arraign and judge your God, 
And think that fingularity is lenie ! 
Hear and be humbled : Socrates himfelf *— 
And him you boaft your matter, — would have falks 
In humble, thankful reverence at the feet 
of Jeius — and drank wifdom from his tongue I 
Divineft fountain \ from the copious iheam 
Then drink we freely, gladly, plenteous draughts 
Of ever- living wifdom > knowledge clear, 
And otherwiie attainlefs of that itate 
Supernal, glorious : where, in angel- form 
And angel-bleiTcdnefsf, from Dea:h's dread power, 
From Sin's dominion, and from Sorrow's fenie 
Emancipated ever, we mall mare 
Complete, uninterrupted, bound leis blifs ; 
Inceffant flowing forth from God's right hand, 
Well of perennial joy J ! Our moral powers, 
By perfect pure benevolence enlarged, 
With universal (ympathy, mall glow 
Love's flame ethereal ! And from God himfelf, 
Loves primal fource, and ev.tr- bl effing fun, 
Keceive, and round communicate the warmth 

* Alluding to his celebrated viifh of divine Illumination from fome tUpetht 
power. 

•f 1 5-^775X0; . 
t See Vfalm xiv. »a. 

Of 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 73 

Of gladnefs and of glory I Then (hall rule, 
From dregs of fordid intereft defecate, 
Immortal friend&ip. Then too mail we trace — 
With minds congenial and athirft for truth 
Sincere and fimple, the Creator's works, 
lllumin'd by the intellectual foul, 
Refin'd, exalted ! — Animating thought ! 
To talk with Plato, or with Newton tread 
Thro 1 empyrean fpace the boundlefs track 
Of {tars erratic, or the comet vague 
With fiery luftre wandering thro' the depths 
Of the blue void, exhauftlefs, infinite ; 
While all its wonders, all its myftic ufe, 
Expand themfelves to the admiring fight I 
Defcending then from the celeftial range 
Of planetary worlds, how bleft to walk 
And trace with thee, nature's true lover, Hale, 
— In fcience fage and venerable — trace 
Thro" 1 vegetation's principle, the God I 
Read in each tube, capillary, and root, 
In every leaf and blofTom, fruit and flower, 
Creative energy, coniummate art, 
Beauty and bounty blended and complete ! 
Oh what a burft of wifdom and delight, 
Intelligence and pleafure, to engage 
Th' enraptur'd mind for ages ! 'Twere too fhort 
Eternity itfelf, with reafoning queft 
To fearch, to contemplate great nature's God 
Thro' all his nature's works ! Suns, ftars, and fkies> 
With all their vaft and elemental (tore : 
Seas, with their finny myriads : birds that wing 
With glittering pinions the elaftic air, 
And fill the woods with mufic : Animals, 
That feed, that clothe, that labour for their lord, 
Proud man ; and half up to his reafon climb 
By inftincl: marvellous ! Fruits, that infinite 
In glow and tafte refrefh creation's toil : 
And flowers, that rich in icent their incenfe fweet 
■—Delicious offering both to Gcd and man, — 

H Breathe 



74 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Breathe free from velvet variegated hues, 
And {peak celeftial kindnefs then from thefe 
His leffer wonders — Fam'd anatomifts, 
Ye, who vrith fcrupulous, but Mill painful fearcri* 
Pore doubtful in the dark recefs of life ; 
Then turn we, Chefelden, to man 5 fo form'd 
With fear and wonder by the matter- hand, 
And learn we, fromdiicovery of the fprings 
Of this divine automaton : the blood 
In nimble currents courfing thro* the veins 
And purple arteries ; the fibres fine ; 
The tubal nerves, fo ramified, and quick 
To keen fen fat km j all the various parts 
So complicate, yet diftincl ; adapted each 
Its functions with minuteneis to fulfil, 
While to the one great end concurring all 
With harmony unvarying ! — Learn we hence 
The wifdom exquifite, which gave to life, 
To motion, this his prime, his chief machine ! 
And fuperadded, in his love's diiplay, 
The foul's fuperior, intellectual rule, 
Connection wonderful ! and till that hour 
Of all-expanding knowledge, to man's mind 
Inexplicable ilill, and ftili unknown ! 

How rife upon the thought, to truth attent, 
Truths new and interesting, 'midft this field 
Of univerfal fcience ! — Nor mall then 
The fpirifs feat and influence on our frame, 
Grofs and material, be alone evolvM 
To our aftonifiVd viCw. Spirit itfelf, 
Its nature, properties, diftinclions, powers, 
— Deep fubjecl of investigation deep, 
And chief refolver of man's anxious doubts j 
Tho' to his fight impoffible, or iearch, 
While darkened by mortality — iliail rife, 
Soon as he burfts the barrier of the grave, 
Clear and familiar on his hght enlarged : 
Seen in himfelf, beatify 'd, and cloth'd 
With lpiritual glory : in the angelic world 



Sun 



THOUGHTS IN FRISON. 75 

Seen and admir'd. And — oh ecftatic view, 
Whofe fight is perfect blifs, transforming, pure*,— 
Seen and ador'd in Thee, great firft and laft, 
Sole, felf-exiftent Thou the gracious cauie 
Of all exigence ; Infinitely bleit, 
Yet pleafed with life and being to impart 
That blefling to innumerous creatures round! 
Spirit of the nni verfe, thro' all diffus'd, 
And animating all ! Dread Triune Godf , 
With beams exhauftlefs of eternal love, 
Of life, of glory, from thy central throne 
Shining beneficent : and kindling warm 
In every being fubjecl: to thy rule, 
Devotion's rapture and thanksgiving's fong j 
Mellifluous fongs, and hallelujahs high ! 
New wonders elevate ! For not alone 
By contemplation up to nature's God 
From nature's work's afcending, mall the foul 
Beatified receive in future blifs 
Acceffions of delight through endlefs day : — 
Lo, what a fcene, engaging and profound, 
Prefents itfelf the darkening curtain drawn-— 
From the high acts of Providence, difplay'd 
In one clear view confident j in one end 
Important, grand, concentering: one defign 
Superlatively gracious, through the whole 
Purfued invariably ; even from the hour 
When pafs'd the (enrence on the ierpent's head, 
To that thrice-awful moment, when the Son 
His viclor-c-ar o'er death and hell fhall drive 
Triumphant, and bolt fall the gates of time ! 

* There muft be fyrnpathy in the future ftate to render it uniformly com- 
plete and perfect. We can have no pleafure in God, or God in us, but from that 
fyrnpathy arifing from fimilitude. We muft he made like God to enjoy beatific 
virion. Ering a bad man to Heaven, with a foul encrufted and fenfualited, he 
would have no pleafure in it ; nor could he endure the fight, any more than 
reptiles that grovel in a caveami.^ft filth and darknefs, could endure the fplen- 
dorsofthe mid-day fun. Shakefneare's defcription is, in this view, highly 
animated: 

*' For vice, tho' to a radiant Angel link'd 

*' Would fate itfelf in a celeftial bed, 

4t And pre yon garbage." 
♦ See Maclean's A-nfwer to ;enyn'«, p. 72. 

H z Unroll'd 



76 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

UnrolPd the myftic volume, we behold 
In characters of wifdom ftrong pourtray'd 
The rife and fall of empires : in thy hand 
Omnipotent, or inftruments of good, 
Or of thy juftice punitive and dread 
Awful difpenfers ! There, of heroes, kings, 
Sages, and faints, of prophets and of priefts, 
Thy diftributions difficult, but wife, 
Bifcerning, mall we gratefully adore : 
And in the long, long chain of feeming chancej 
And accidents fortuitous, mall trace 
Omnifcience all-combining, guiding all ! 
No difpeniations then will ieem too hard, 
Through temporary ills to blifsful life 
Leading, tho' labyrinthal ! All will mine 
In open day : all, o'er the mighty plan, 
Difcover Thee, with wifdom infinite 
Prefiding glorious : All thy ftedfaft truth, 
And love paternal, manifeft j while falls 
The proftrate world of fpirits, angels, faints, 
In adoration's homage 'fore thy throne ! 

Nor to our earth, or earth's poor confines bound : 
The foul dilated, glorified and free, 
On feraph's wings mail foar, and drink in glad, 
New draughts of high delight from each furvey 
Of its Creators kingdoms ! Pleas'd mail pafs 
From fear to ftar j from planetary worlds, 
And fyftems far remote, to fyftems, worlds 
Remoter ftill, in boundlefs depths of fpace ; 
Each peopled with its myriads : and mall learn 
The wife and ftricl dependence of the whole 5 
Concatenation finking of thy works, 
All-perfect, mighty Mafter! Wonder-loll 
In thelaft view of fyftems numberlefs, 
Ail regular, in one eternal round 
Of beauteous order roiling ! All defign'd 
With fkill confummate, tending to one goal, 
And manifeft ing all, in characters 
Tranfparent as the diamond's brilliant blaze, 

Their 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON* 77 

Their Sovereign Ruler's unity of will, 
His all-efficient wifdom, and his love, 
In grace and glory infinite; the chain 
Connecting firm, and through its every link 
Transfufing life's ineffable delights ! 
Oh goodnefs providential ! fleepiefs care ! 
Intent, as ever bleft, to blefs the whole ! 
What plaudits from that whole are due, mail burft 
From full creation's ui.iverfal choir 1 

Then, oh tranfporting ! mail the icheme profound, 
Heaven's labour, and of angels anxious thought 
Sublimed meditation ; — then mall blaze 
In fulleft glory on the race redeem'd, 
Redemption's boundleis mercy ! — High in Heav'n, 
To millions bleft, rejoicing in its grace, 
And hymning all its bounties, ihall the crofs, 
Thy crofs, ail- conquering Saviour be difplay'd, 
While feraphs veil their glories, and while men, 
Thronging innumerable, proftrate fall 
Before thy feet, and to the bleeding Lamb 
Afcribe their free falvation!-~ 

'Midft that throng 
Of fpirits juftified, and thro' thy blood 
Cleans'd, perfected, and bleft, might I be found, 
To fcenes r o high exalted ; to fuch views 
Ennobling brought, fuch intellect reftVd, 
Such light and love, fuch holinefs and peace ; 
Such fpheres of (cience, and fuch realms of reft ! . 
Ah, how I'd fcorn the paflage {trait of death, 
How doleful e'er and horrid ! How I'd look 
With ftedfaftnefs unlhaken through the grave, 
Ana (mile o'er all its fadnefs ! How I'd rife. 
Exulting, great Forerunner, o'er the waves 
And bitternefs of life ! How, fmiiing, court 
£v'n the fell hand of horror, to dilmifs 
From earth, from darknefs, my delighted foul 
To Heaven, to God, and everlafting day ! 

Teacher of truth, bleft Jeiii ! — On the throne 
Of majefty co-equal thou who fiu'it 

H 3 From 



78 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

From all eternity in glory's blaze 
With thy Almighty Father ! Thou, benign, 
From bofom of that Father haft brought down 
Intelligence to man of this bleft ftate 
Confolatory, rational j and fraught 
With every good beyond the higheft reach 
Of man's fupreme conception! How fhall then 
In equal languageman his homage pay, 
Or grateful laud thy goodnefs ! Sons of Greece, 
Or ye, who in old times, of fevenfold Nile, 
Proud Tyber, or the Ganges 1 facred flood 
Religious drank, and to your daemon's dark 
Paid fuperftition's tribute ; — tho' I trace 
Delighted, in your viiions of the world 
Beyond the grave, your dreams of future life,— 
Proofs of that life's firm credence, of your faith 
In the foul's deathlefs nature 5— yet with tears 
Of human pity, humbled o'er the fenfe 
Of human imbecility, I read 
Your futile fables, puerile and poor; 
To the foul's life, to virtue's godlike love 
Unanimatirig, ufelefs ; while illum'd 
By gofpel-iplendor, — elfe, no doubt, as dark 
And worthy pity — owns my heart rejoie'd, 
That gofpel's eminence of wifdom, truth, 
And heavenly emanation, in its traits 
Of future life fnperlatively drawn 1 

And who could paint that life, that fcene defcrjbe 
Immortal, and all-glorious, from the view 
Of mortals fhrouded ever, — fave the Son, 
Who from eternity that life enjoyed \ 
And came in condefcenlion to reveal 
A glimpfe of its perfection to mankind ? 

Preemption vain and arrogant in man, 
To think of fketching with his weak, faint line, 
A fcene fo much above him ! And behold 
That vain prelum pticn punifh'd as it ought, 
In Arahy's Impoftor, dark and lew'd ; 
Who dar'u, with temporary follies fraught, 

And 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 79 

And low felf-intereft, ftalking in the van 
Of mad ambition's route — to cheat his train, 
Deluded by his darings, with the hope 
Of fenfual ravifhment, and carnal joys 
Perpetual in the Paradife of God ; 
RefervM — for fons of murder and of luft ! 

Shame on the impious madnefs ! — Nor lefs mame 
Muff, truth indignant dart on thofe who boaft 
Exclufive Chriftianity j yet dare 
Prefumptuous, in their fancied penal fire 
To fetter the free foul, " till the foul fins 
<e Done in its days of nature be purged out 
" And burn'd away* ;" unlefs by lucky chance 
The oft-repeated mafs, thro 1 potent gold, — 
All-facred influence! — gahVd, unlocks the door 
Of difmal prifon-houfe, and gives the foul 
EnfrancmVd, up to Peter's better care! 

Prepofterous, weak delufion ! ftrange reproach 
To Chriftian fapience, and to manly fenfe ! 
But not to Chrift's true gofpel, and the code 
Of Revelation pure ; before whofe light, 
Refpendently informing, fables old 
Like thefe, and vain (of ignorauce the birth, 
Or coinage facerdotal, in an age 
Of grofs Cimmerian darknefs), growling hide 
Their ignominious heads : as birds of night, 
Reptiles, and beaffs of prey before the fun, 
Mounting the mifty hills, in fplendor robM, 
And beaming all around refulgent day ! 

Other, far other, from that luminous code 
Breaks on the rational, enlightenM mind 
In perfect beauty that exalted flate, 
Of whofe high excellence our fight hath dar'd, 
How dim foe'er, to take an humble glimpfe, 
And peep into its wonders ! — But what tongue 
Of man in language adequate can tell, 
What mortal pencil worthily pourtray 
That excellence, thofe wonders — where nor death 

* See Hamlet. 



8o THOUGHTS ttf PRISON. 

Nor fin, nor painfhall enter ever;— where, 
Each ill excluded, every good fhall reign ; 
Where day (hall ne'er decline; butceafelefs light 
—The Lamb's eternal luftre — blazing bleis 
With falutary glory ! where fhall rmile 
One fpring unvarying j and glad nature teem 
Spontaneous with exuberance of bounty ! 
Where, in immortal health, the frame fublim'd, 
Refin'd, exalted thro' the chymic grave, 
In union with the foul made perfecl, pure, 
And to the likenefs of its God transformed, 
Shall find for every {^ylCq divine employ, 
Gratification ample, exquifite, 
Angelical, and holy: Chief in fight,. 
In vifion beatific of its God ; 
In bleit communion of his love ; in praife, 
High choral praife, ftrung to the golden harp 
In untfon eternal, with the throng, 
Thoufands of thoufands that furround the throne, 
And feel his praife, their glory, and their blifs ! 

There too his works conftant th 1 adoring foul 
Shall pleas'd inveftigate ; and conftant find 
Frefh well-fpring of delight j there conftant fliare 
The lov'd fociety and converfe high 
Of all the good, the wife, the truly great 
Of every age and clime ; with faints and feers 
Divine communication holding, rapt 
Perpetually in new and deep difplays 
Of wifdom boundleis, and of perfect love. 
Then too, oh joy ! amidft this blaze of good, 
This ccnfummation rich of higheit blifs ; 
Then mail we meet, — meet never more to part, 
Dear, dear, departed friends ! and then enjoy 
Eternal amity. My parents then, 
My youth's companions* !— From my moiftenM cheeks 
Dry the unworthy tear ! Where art thou, Death ? 
Is this a caufe for mourning ? — What a ftatc 
Of happinefs exalted hes before me ! 

* See Thoughts on the Eyiphanyj yer. 331, &c. 

X-0, 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 8l 

Lo my bar'd boiom ! Strike : — I court the blow : 
I long, I pant for everlafting day, 
For glory, immortality, and God ! 

But, ah, why droops my foul ? why o'er .me thus 
Comes a chill cloud ? Such triumph well befuits 
The faithful chriftian ? thee had fuited well, 
If haply perfevering in the courfe, 
As firft thy race exuhingly began. 
But thou art fallen, fallen! Oh my heart, 
What dire compunction ! — funk in foul offence 
A prifoner, and condemn'd : an outcaft vile 5 
Bye- word and fcorn of an indignant world, 
Who reprobate with horror thy ill deed : 
Turn from thee loath'd, and to damnation ju ft 
Affign, unpitying, thy devoted head, 
Loaded with every infamy ! 

Dread God 
Of Juftice and of Mercy ! wilt thou too, 
In fearful indignation on my foul, 
My anguinYd foul, the door of pity clofe, 
And flmt me from thee ever ? — Lo ! in duft, 
Humiliant, proftrate, weeping 'fore thy throne—* 
Before thy crofs, oh dying Friend of man, 
Friend of repentant finners I confefs, 
And mourn my deep tranfgreflions j as the fand 
Innumerous, as the glowing crimfon red 5 
With every aggravation, every guilt 
Accumulate and burden'd ! Againft light, 
'Gainft love and clearer!: knowledge perpetrate ! 
Stampt with ingratitude's moil odious itain 5 
Ingratitude to thee ; whofe favouring love 
Had blefs'd me, had diftinguinVd me with grace, 
With goodnefs far beyond my wifh or worth 1 
Ingratitude to man ; whofe partial ear 
Attended to my doctrine with delight 5 
And from my zeal confpicuous juftly claim'd 
Conipicuous example !< — —Lord, I fink 
O'erwhelmM with felf conviction, with difmay, 
With anguifh and confufion paft compare 1 

And 






%1 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

And could I weep whole leas of briny tears 
In painful penitence ; could I deplore 
From my heart's aching fountain, drop by drop, 
My crimes and follies j my deep grief and fhame. 
For vile difhonour on thy goipel brought j 
For vile difcredit to my order done ; 
For deep offence againfl my country's laws! 
For deep offence to pity and to man,-— 
A patriarchal age would be too fhort 
To fpeak my forrows and lament my fins ; 
Chief, as I am, of finners! Guiltier far 
Than he who, falling, at the cock's fhrill call 
Rofe, and repented weeping : Guiltier far— 
I dare not fay, than Judas ; for my heart 
Hath ever lov'd, — could never have betray'd, 
Oh never, never Thee, dear Lord ! to death \ 
Tho' cruelly, unkindly and unwife 
That heart hath facrinVd its truth and peace, 
—For what a ihameful, what a paltry price I— 
To fin, deterred fin ; and done thee wrong, 
Oh bleffed fource of all its good, its hope ! 
For tho' thus funk, thus finful, ibrrowing thus, 
It dare not, cannot Judas' crime commit, 
Laft crime, — and of thy mercy, Lord deipair! 
But, conicious of its guilt : contrite and plung'd 
In lowefl felt abjeclion, in the depths 
Of fad compunction, of repentence due 
And undiffembled, to thy crofs it cleaves, 
And cries for — ardent cries for mercy, Lord \ 
Mercy, its only refuge ! Mercy, Chrift ! 
By the red drops that in the garden guftVd 
'Mid ft thy foul's anguifh from thee ! By the drops 
That down thy precious temples from the crown 
Of agony diftillM ! By thofe that flowM 
From thy pierc'd hand's and blefTcd feet fofree; 
By all thy blood, thy fufferings, and thy death, 
Mercy, oh Mercy, Jefus ! Mercy Thou, 
Who erft on David, with a clement eye, 
When mourning at thy footflool, deign'dft to look 

Thou, 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 2% 

Thou, who th* adulterous Magdalen forgav'ft, 
When in the winning garb of penitence 
Contrite (he knelt, and with her flowing tears 
Wafh'd lowly thy lov'd feet ! Nor thou the thief, 
Ev'n in the laft, the bittereft hour of pain, 
Refufedft, gracious ! Nor wilt thou refufe 
My humble fupplication, nor reject: 
My broken bleeding heart, thus offer' d up 
On true contrition's altar; while thro' thee, 
Only thro 1 Thee acceptance do I hope, 
Thou bleeding love! Confummate Advocate, 
Prevailing Interceffor, great High Prieft, 
Almighty Sufferer I Oh look pitying down ! 
On thy fufficient merits I depend ; 
From thy unbounded mercies I implore 
The look of pardon, and the voice of grace,-— 
Grace, Grace ! — Victorious Conqueror over fin, 
O'er death, o'er Hell, for me, for all mankind j 
For grace I plead : repentant at thy feet 
I throw myfelf, unworthy, loft, undone ; 
Trufting my foul, and all its dear concerns, 
With filial refignation to thy will : 
Grace, — iiill on grace my whole reliance built s 
Glory to grace triumphant !— And to thee, 
Difpenfer bounteous of that fovereign grace! 
Jefus, thou King of glory ! at thy call 
I come obedient : lo, the future world 
Expands its views tranfporting ! Lord, I come 5 
And in that world eternal truft to 'plaud, 
With all Redemption's fons, thy glorious grace ! 

Then farewell, oh, my friends ! light o'er my grave 
The green fod lay, and dew it with the tear 
Of memory affectionate I and you 
— The curtain dropt decilive, oh my foes, \ 

Your rancour drop j and, candid, as I am 
Speak of me, haplds ! Then yoifil fpeak of one 
Whole boibm beat at pity's gentleft touch 
From earlieft infancy ; whole boyifh mind 
In a£ls humane and tender ever joy'd j 

And 



S4 THOUGHTS IN PRISON, 

And who, — that temper by his inmoit fenfe 
Approv'd and cultivate with conftant care,—* 
Melted thro 1 life at Sorrow's plaintive tale 5 
And urgM, companionate with pleaiure ran 
To ibotne the fufferer and relieve the woe ! 
Of one, who, though to humble fortune bred, 
With fplendid generality's bright form 
Too ardently en amourM, turn'd his light, 
Deluded, from frugality's juft care, 
And pariimony needful ! one who fcorn'd 
Mean love of gold, yet to that power, — his fcorn 
Retorting vengeful, — a marked victim fell I 
Of one, who, uniuipecling, and ill-form' d 
For the world's fubtleties, his bare breaft bore 
Unguarded, open 5 and ingenuous, thought 
All men ingenuous, frank and open too! 
Of one, who, warm with human pailions, foft 
To tendered impreflions, frequent rufh'd 
Precipitate into the tangling maze 
Of error y — inftant to each fault alive 
Who, in his little journey through the world-— 
Milled, deluded oft, miftook his way; 
Met with bad roads and robbers, for his fteps 
Infidious lurking: and, by cunning craft 
Of fellow-travellers fometimes deceiv'd, 
Severely felt of cruelty and fcorn, 
Of envy, malice, and of ill report*, 

* The followine is a ftriking inftance, and an alarming proof, that calumny 
and flander will one day grievoufly afflict the conicious mind. — A Clergyman, 
with whom I had lived in much friendship, always ready to fliew him every 
proof of civility, and for whom I had much efteem ; after anabienceofa 
twelvemonth and more, fent me a line, that he was then in a dangerous ftate, 
apprehenfive of fpeedy death, i flew to my friend with all zeal and fpeed; and 
found him, as itfeemed, in a very dangerous way. Almoft as foon as he faw 
me he burft into tears, and clafping my hands vehemently, laid, " Oh, my dear 
" Doftor, I could not die in peace without feeing you , and earneftly imploring 
** your pardon. For amidft all the feeming friendihip T (hewed, I have been 
'« your bitter enemy. I have done all I could upon every occafion to traduce 
*' and leflen you : Envy, bafe envy alone, being my motive ; for I could not 
*« bear the brilliancy of your reputation, and the iplendor of your abilities. 
" — Can you forgive me?" 

1 was mocked ; but with great truth told him to be perfectly at peace ; that 

he had my moft fincere forgivenefs I did all I could to foothe his mind. He 

recovered ; and furely muft ever be my friend ! Would to God what he then 
fuffered may be a warning to him,a;id to all, how they indulge fuch diabolical 
pafflons ; which, being moft oppofite to the God who is Jove, cannot but fooner 
er later woefully diftraft the hezri 1 

The 



THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 85 

The heavy hand oppreflive ! One who brought 
■ — From ignorance, from indifcretion blind, — 
Ills numerous on his head 5 but never aim'd. 
Nor wifh'd an ill or injury to man ! 
Injur'd, with cheerful read ineis forgave j 
Nor for a moment in his happy heart 
Harbour' d of malice or revenge a thought : 
Stiii glad and bleft to avenge his foes deipite 
By deeds of love benevolent! — Of one— *• 
Oh painful contradiction, who in God, 
In duty, placM the fummit of his joy ; 
Yet left that-God, thatbiifsful duty left, 
Prepofterous, vile deferter ! andj-eceiv'd 
A juft return — " Defertion from his God, 
" And coniequential plunge into the depth 
** Of all his preient — of all human woe I" 

Then hear his fufferings ! Hear (if found too faint 
His feeble fong to win attention) hear 
And heed his dying counfel ! Cautious, fhun 
The rocks on which he fplit. Cleave dole to God, 
Your Father, fure Protector, and Defence : 
Foriake not his lov'd fervice j and your caufe 
Be fure he'll ne'er foriake. Initiate once 
Happy and prosperous, in religion's courfe 
Oh perfevere unfainting! Nor to vice 
Or tempting folly flighted parley give : 
Their black tents never enter: On the watch 
Continue unremitting, ncr e'er flack 
The neceffary guard. Trivial neglecfs, 
Smalieft beginnings*, to the wakeful foe 
Open the door of danger ; — and down finks, 
Thro' the minuted leak once fprung, the Ihip 
In gayeit and moft gallant tackle trim. 
By fmall neglects he fell ! — 

Oh could ye rife, 



» Principiis obfta : fero medicina paratur, 
Cmn mala per longas convaluere mor2s 
Sed propera; nee te Venturas differ in horas. 
Qui! non eft hodie, eras minus aptus erit. 

Ov, R. A. Ub. I, L, 



Bleft 



S6 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

Bicft mimfters of peace, by his fad fall; 

Gather increaie of caution and of zeal? 
And, feeing on what ilippcry edge ye itand, 
Of foul and fatal lapfe take the more heed j— 
With deeper thanktulnefs he'd bow the knee, 
While thus his fate productive prov'd of good 
To you, of truth bled heralds \ whom he views 
With heart-felt anguifh fcandaliz'd impugn'd 
By his atrocious follies : But for that 
Not honour'd lefs, or honourable, if rous'd, 
Ev'n by his errors, wifely you maintain 
Your high profeflion's dignity, and look 
With fingle eye intent on the great work 
Thrice holy, of your calling; happier! work 
Of mortals here, a Salvation of mens fouls," 

Oh envied paitor, who thus occupied 
Looks down on low preferment's diftant views 
Contemptible ; nor e'er his plotting mind 
To little, mean iervilities enflavesj 
Forgetting duty's exercife fubiime, 
And his attachments heavenly! Who nor joins 
In frivolous converfe on the rife cf this, 
Nor profpecls flattering of that worldly clerk j 
Strange inconfiftency ! Marching aloft 
With frep fuperior and ambition's paw 
To dignity's wifh'd fummit! — Nor allows 
Envious, or fpreads malicious the low tales 
Diminiihing of brethren, who by zeal, 
Of eminence of merit in the caufe, 
The common caufe of Chrift, diiiinguiuYd mine 
Or futile politics and party rage 
Who, heed lefs, ever for the powers that be 
In meek iincerity implores : and lives 
Only to fpread around the good, the peace, 
The truth, the happinefs, his open heart 
Innocuous podelfes, as the gift 
Of him, the God of peace he ferves and loves I 

Much envied paitor ! Ah, ye men of God, 
Who crowd the kvee, theatre, or court - } 

Foremeft 



THOUGHTS IN FRISOST, 87 

Foremarr. In each amufement's idle walk ; 
Of vice and vanity the fportive fcorn, 
The vaunted pillars j — ah, that ye were aH 
Such happy, envied paftors ! how mankind 
With eyes of reverence would devoutly look, 
How would yourfelves with eyes of pleafure look 
On characters fo uniform ! while now, 
What view is found lefs pleafmg to the fight ? 
Nor wonderful, my aged friends ! For none 
Can inward look complacent where a void 
Prefents its deflations drear and dark. 
Hence 'tis you turn (incapable to bear 
Reflection's juft refentment) your lull'd minds 
To infantine amufements, and employ 
The hours, — fhort hours, indulgent Heaven affords 
For purpofes moif folemn, — in the toil 
Of bufy trifling ; of diverfions poor, 
Which irritate as often as amufe : 
Pafilons mod low and fordid! With due mame, 
With forrow I regret — Oh pardon me 
This mighty wrong ! — thai: frequ.nt by youv fide 
Silent I've fat, and with a pitying eye 
Your follies marked, and unadmenifh'd left, 
Tho' tenderly lamenting ! Yet, at raft, 
— If haply not too late my friendly call 
Strike on dead ears, oh profit by that call ! 
And, to the grave approaching, its alarms 
Weigh with me all confederate 1 Brief time 
Advances quick in tread 5 few hours and dark 
Remain : thofe hours in frivolous employ 
Waite not impertinent j they ne'er return ! 
Nor deem it dulnefs to ftand ftill and paufe 
When dread eternity hath claims fo high. 
Oh be thofe claims "fulfili\i ! 

Nor, my young friends, 
Whom life's gay funfhine warms with laughing joy, 
Pais you thofe claims unheeding i — In the bud 
Or earliefl: rofe oft have I forrowing feen 
The canker worm lurk blighting j oft, ere noon, 

I z The 



88 THOUGHTS IN PRISON. 

The tulip have beheld drop its proud head 
In eminent beauty open'd to the morn ! 
In youth, in beauty, in life's outward charms 
Boaft not felf- flattering ; virtue has a grace, 
Religion has a power, which will preferve 
Immortal your true excellence! Oh give 
Early and happy your young hearts to God, 
And God will fmile in coimtlefs blernns-s on vou! 
Nor, captivate by famon's idle glare, 
And, the world's mews delufive, dance the maze, 
The fame dull round, fatiguing and fatigu'd, - 
Till, difcontented, down in folly's feat, 
And difappointment's, worthlefs, toil'd, you fink, 
Deipifmg and defpis'd ! Your gentle hearts 
To kind impreffions yet fufceptible, 
Will amiably hear a friend's advice ; 
And if, perchance, amidft the giddy whirl 
Of circling folly, his unheeded tongue 
Hath whifper'd vanity, or not announc'd 
Truth's falutary dictates to your ears, 
Forgive the injury, my friends belov'd ; 
And fee me now, folicitous t' atone 
That and each fault, each error ; with full eyes 
Intreating you, by all your hopes and fears, 
By all your dear anxieties ; by all 
You hold in life molt precious, to attend, 
To liften to his lore ! to ieek for blifs 
In God, in piety; in hearts devote 
To duty and to heav'n ! and feeking thus, 
The treafure is your own. Angels on earth, 
Thus pure and good, foon will ye mount, and live 
Eternal angels with your Father — God I 
Of admonition due, juft felf-contempt, 
And frank expoftulation's honeft charge, 
The needful debt thus paid ; hafle thou, my fong, 
As haftes my life, — brief madow, — to its clofe ! 

Then farewell, oh my friends, molt valued ! bound 
By confanguinity's endearing tye, 
Or friendfhip's noble fervice, manly love, 

And 



THOUGHTS IN rmsoK, g 9 

Arid generous obligations ! See, in all 
—•And fpare the tear of pity— Heaven's high will 
Ordaining' wife and good. I fee, I own 
His difpenfation, howfoever harm, 
To my hard heart, to my rebellious foul 
Needful and falutary ! His dread rod 
Paternal, lo, I kifsj and to the ftroke 
Severe, fubmiflive, thankfully reiign ! 
It weans me from the world 5 it proves how vain, 
How poor the life of erring man ! — hath taught, 
Experimentally hath taught, to look 
With fcorn, with triumph upon death ;— to wifh. 
The moment come !• — Oh were that moment come, 
When, launched from all that's ilnful here below, 
Securely 1 (hall fail along the tide 
Of glorious eternity ! My friends, 
BelovM and honoured, oh that we were launched, 
And tailing happv there, where fhbrtly all 
Muft one day fail! Oh that in peaceful port 
We all were landed ! all together fafe 
In everlafting amity and love 
With God, our God ; our pilot thro* 1 the ftorms 
Of- this lifers fea!-~ But, why the frivolous wifh r 
Set a few funs, — a few more days decline, 
And I /hall meet you. — Oh the glaelbme hour! 
M- j et you in glory, nor with flowing tears 
Afflic'led drop my pen, and iigh Adieu ? 

FND OF THE FIFTH WEEK,, 



f-t-f &| a po&fcript to a friend, the Author write? 
thus : J forgot to requeft my good friend to tell Mr, 
Hanway, that in one of my little melancholy Poems, 
written in this dreary place, I have made fuch men- 
tion of him as I think his attention to the improvement 
of jails demands : — That I earnestly prefs him, as a 
Chriftian and a Man, to purfae that improvement with 
zeal: — That much, very muck is to be done: — .And 
that while the (late: of prifons remains as it is, the legis- 
lature has fbme rsaibn to charge itielf with the greater 
I \ part 



<)0 PIECES FOUND AMONG THE 

part of the robberies, &c. committed. For the of- 
fenders for petty crimes are here hardened in almoft 
every fpecies of vice, and turned out, necefiary plun- 
derers of the public, from the depravity of their un- 
altered difpofition, and the deficiency of proper employ- 
ment. I have felt much on this lubjecl fmce I have 
been here ; and exprefled fomething of it in the Poem, 
Week the Third. 



PIECES FOUND AMONG THE AUTHOR'S PAPERS 
IN' PRISON, WITH HIS LAST PRAYER, 

I.— THE ADMONITION. 
A FFLICTED priibner, whofoe'er thou art, 
■*^* To this lone room unhappily confin'd ; 
Be thy nrft bufinefs here to learch thy heart, 

And probe the deep corruptions of thy mind ! 
Struck with the foul tranigrefHons thou haft wrought, 

With fin,— the fource of all thy worldly woe 5 
To fhame, to forrow, to conviction brought, 
Oh, fall before the throne of mercy low ! 
With true Repentance pour thy foul in prayer, 

And fervent plead the Saviour's cleanling blood : 
Faith's ardent cry will pierce the Father's ear 5 
And Chrift's a plea which cannot be withftood 



IL— SCRIPTURE-PENITENTS. (A Fragment,) 
THIRST in the life of penitents we place 
The finful parent of our finfnl race; 
W r ho by temptation foii'd , and man's firft foe, 
" Brought death into the world, and all our woe V* 

TranfgrefTion's debt how deeply does he pay I 
Depriv'd of innocence ; to death a prey 5 
From Paradife expell'd ; to toil arTigii'd — 
Toil of the fainting frame and fick'ning mind ! 
And doom' d to fhed, for near a thoufand y^ears, 
O'er fall'n defendants penitential tears ! 

Thus feized the triple league* on mortal man, 
And thus, Repentance, thy fad reign began, 

♦5:n, Sorrow and Death, 

Yet, 



author's papers in prison. 91 

Yet, awful Power ! how bleft beneath thy fway, 
Who feel Contrition's dictates, and obey ! 
Their vicious deviations who deteft, 
And hold Faith's cro ; 's, all humbled, to their breaft! 
Fi e>m God's lov'd preience then they need not fly * 5 
Nor ope in wrath the flood-gates of the Hey : 
For fince to man perfection was deny'd, 
By thee his deep demerits are fupply'd : 
And, led by thee a iuppliant to the throne, 
The God of mercy looks with pity down : 
Smiles on the mourner, and delights to prove 
How free is grace, and how triumphant love ! 

Eternal proof! Sec, bath'd in floods of tears, 
Where David foremofr. in thy train appears : 
How deep his crime, the prophet pictures well 5 
How deep his penitence, thofe forrows tell ! 
That, whether to deplore the crime, or blefs, 
We ftand fufpended 5 fince its evil lefs, 
Lefs bright his foul's ingenuous grief had fhene, 
And lefs at once his comfort*, and our own ! 

Hear, like a torrent how his forrows roll; 
Conviction's tempefc tearing up his foul ! 
Hear, iad and folemn, to the mournful firings, 
In trembling anguifh, how he weeps and fings ! 
iC Mercy, oh mercy, Lord ! with humble heart ; 

" For thy known pity's fake, mercy I pray ! 
u Boundlefs in tender mercies as Thou art, 

u Take, Lord ! oh take my foul offence away ! 
€t Oh, from my loathfome guilt, wafh, cleanfe my foul 5 

" Remove, dear Father, each defiling Main : 
u Guilty, oh, guilty, Lord ! I own the wliole ; 

" I fee, I feel it ; all excufe is vain. 
" Againft Thee, Lord ! ev'n Thee, have I tranfgrefs'd $ 

" Lo, felf-convifted, I before Thee fall ! 
€e Julf are thy words ; their truth is thus confefs'd j 

" Tuft are thy judgments ! Sinners are we all. 
*' Prone to offend, or ere to birth I came, 

16 My mother, when conceiving, gave me guilt : 

* As Cain. Gen. iv. 14, 16. 

P Shapen 



Q)Z PIECES FOUND AMONG THE 

" Shapen in fin was my corrupted frame, [built. 

" When in the womb that wonderous frame was 
M But Thou, of purer eyes than guilt to view, 

" Thou wilt accept the foul's iincere defire ; 
f< Pardon the part, the humbled heart renew, 

ee And wifdom by thy fecret one hifpire. 
Cf Then liften to my cry ; and oh, my God, 

" Purge me with hyflop, and I pure mall grow | 
" Warn me, foul leper, in the myftic blood, 

(C And whiter I (hall be than whiter): mow, 
(( Againft the voice of gladnefs let me hear 

" Thy voice of pardoning love, for it is fweett 
w The foul dejecled fo fhakthou upreaiy— [feet, 

<c The worm which, crufh'd, lies trembling at thy 
<c Hide from my fins, — the obje&s of thy hate,— ■■ 

" Oh, hide thy face, and blot them from thy view -: 
€t A clean heart, God of grace, in me create, 

e< And a right fpirit in my foul renew ! 
* ( From thy lov'd prefence let me not be driven : 

" Let me not lofe thy blefTed fpirit's aid j 
P Again the joy of thy falvation giv'n, 

" Uphold, fupport, fuftain my heait difmay'd. 
6( Then, of thy pardoning mercy fatisry'd, 

" Thy pardoning mercy loud will I proclaim : 
(t So mail tranlgreffors, taught by me, confide 

" In thy companions ; turn, and blefs thy name. 
F* Ah ! my foul fnudders ! — From the guilt of blood, 

" Oh, from blood-guiltinefs deliver me 1 
€< Oh God, deliver— my falvation's God, 

" And praife unceafmg will I pay to thee. 
*< Permit my lips, now cjos'd by guilt and fhamc* 

" Thy pardoning love, Jehovah, to expreis ; 
f? Then to the lift'ning world I'll tell thy name, 

'* Proclaim thy praife, and fing thy righteoufnefs. 
f* For crimes like mine no offerings can atone j 

" The gift of outward facrifice is vain 5 
* f Could thefe avail, before thy righteous throne 

?{ Whole hecatombs I gladly would have (lain. 

" The 
• 



author's papers in prison. 93' 

u The contrite i'pirit and the fighs fincere, 

" Which from the broken, bleeding heart arife, 
€t To thee more pleafing facrifkes are : . 

" Are gifts, my God, which thou wilt not defpife. 
€t Hear then, and fave ! and to my people, Lord, 

" Thy faving mercy gracioufly extend ! 
" Oh let our Zion live in thy regard ; 

" The walls of our Jerusalem defend ! 
" So mall the righteous to thy temple go 9 

Ci And joyful bring their offering and their praife : 
" So (hall the blood of lambs in plenty flow, 

* c And incenfe on thy altar copious blaze*. 

With joy, with grief, the penitent I fee, 
Offending Heav'n, yet Heavm-abfolv'd for me ! 
Oh while, like his, I feel my guilt and fliame, 
Be my repentance and my grief the fame ! 
Then mall the truth which cheerM his heart be mine j 
"Thy God has pardon "d thee, and life is thine. 

But hark, my foul, what melancholy found 
Re-echoes from the dungeon's dark profound ! 
Hear, fympathetic hear : A King complains, 
Fall'n from his throne, a prifoner, and in chains I 

** God of the world, at length thy rule T own, 
" And proftrate fall before thy bound iefs throne : 
€i Thy power refiftlefs, trembling I confers : 
" In threafnings awful, but in love no lefs ! 

" O what a bleffing has that love affignM, 
" By penitence to heal the wounded mind ! 
€C By penitence to finners, who like me, 
11 More than tlvunnumber'd fands that fhore the fea, 
" My crimes acknowledge ; which, of crimfon dye, 
<l In all their fear jet horrors meet my eye ! 

" Oh, eye, unworthy of the light of Heav'n : 
" Oh fins too mountainous to be forgiv'n : 
" Oh rebel to the law and love divine, 
u How juftiy God's fevereft vengeance thine ! 

*,' But oh, I bend my hearfs obedient knee, 
u In amplication, Lord for grace from Thee 1 

* Se Ffalni 51, and Chriltian's Magazine, vol. III. p. 134 

" Yes. 



94 PIECES FOUND AMONG THE 

1 Yes, I have iinn'd, and I confefs the who!e-~ 
' Forgive me then, nor calt away my foul ! 
' Save me from evil, — from thine anger fave, 
' And fnatch me from the dark, untimely grave! 
1 Friend of the contrite, Thou wilt pardon give: 
1 A monument of mercy I mail live! 
f And worthlefs as I am, for ever prove, 
( That true repentance leads to laving love ! 
f That true repentance tunes to praife the heart, 
c And in the choir of Heaven (hall bear an ample part* 1 . 
Thus by affliction's deep correction taught, 
Manaffeh to the Lord for mercy fought : 
By the kind chaftening of a Father's rod, 
Brought to the knowledge of himfeif and God I 
Happy affliction, for iuch knowledge giv'n ; 
And blcft the dungeon which led thus to Heaven'! 



III.— REFLECTIONS, (ununified.) 

TTERE, feclufe from worldly pleafure, 
*"*■ In this doleful place confiifd, 
Come, and let's improve the leifure : 

Meditate, my thoughtful mind ! 
Soul alike and body fharing, 

How have I the one forgot 1 
While for t'other only caring, 

Lo ! my miferable lot ! 
Yet the one I fo much cherifh, 

Doom'd to death when giv'n fo life, 
Soon, perhaps, muft fink and perifh, 

Duit to dud— muft end the ftrife ! 
From a tedious tour returning, 

Into diftant foreign land, 
How my anxious heart is burning 

News of home to underiland ! 



* See Prayer of NfanaiTeh, in the Apocrypha, next to the Firft Book of Mac- 
cabees j and compare 2 Chron. xiuuii. 21, &c. 



AUTHOR'S PAPERS IN PRISON. 95 

To my Friends y efpe dally of the Charitable Sodeties, 

On their folicitude. 

A H, my lov'd friends ! why all this care for one 
-f* To life fo loft, fo totally undone ; 
Whole meat and drink are only bitter tears, 
Nights paiYd in forrow, mornings wak'd to cares 3 
Whofe deep offence fits heavy on the foul, 
And thoughts felf-torturing in deep tumult roll ! 

Could you, by all your labours fo humane, 
From this dread prifon his deliverance gain > 
Could you, by kind exertions of your love, 
To generous pardon royal mercy move, 
Where mould he fly ? where hide his wretched head, 
With fhame fo cover' 1 d ; fo to honour dead ? 

Spare then the talk, and as he longs to die, ) 

Set free the captive,— let his fpirit fly, S 

J^nlarg'd and happy, to its native iky! ) 

Not doubting mercy from his grace to nnd, 
Who bled upon the crofs for all mankind. 

But if it mu ft not be ;— it Heaven's high will 
Ofdains him yet a duty to fulfil ; 

Oh may each breath, while God that breath mail fpare^ 
Be yours in gratitude, be Heaven's in prayer! 
Dc^]i as his (in, and low as his offence, 
High be his rife thro 1 humbleft penitence! 
While, life or death, — mankind at lead mall learn 
From this fad ftory, and your kind concern, 
That works of mercy, and a zeal to prove 
By iym pathetic aid the heart of love, 
On earth itfeif a fure reward obtain ; 
Nor e'er fall pity's kindly drops in vain ! 

I live a proof ! and dying,' round my urn 
AffV.clion's family will crowd and mourn : 
*' Huv rtfts our friend, " if weeping o'er my grave 
1 hey cry— 'tis ail the epitaph I crave, 

THE 



96 THE CONVICT'S ADDRESS 

THE CONVICTS ADDRESS TO HIS UNHAP- 
PY BRETHREN : 

Delivered in the Chapel of Newgate, on Friday, June 6, 1777. 
I acknowledge my faults : and my Sin is ever 

before me. Pfalm li. 3. 



TO THE REVEREND MR. VILLETTE, 
ORDINARY OF NEWGATE, 

Reverend Sir, 
THE following Addrefs owes its prefent public ap- 
pearance to you. I read it to you after it was compof- 
ed, and you thought it proper to.be delivered, as was 
intended. You heard it delivered, and are pleafed to 

think that its publication will be ufeful. To a poor 

abject worm, like myfelf, this is a Sufficient inducement 
to that publication 5 and I heartily pray God, that in 
your hands it may frequently and effectually adminifter 
to the init.ru ction and comfort of the miferable. 
I am, dear Sir, 
With my fincereft thanks for your humane 
and friendly attention, 
your truly forrowful 
Friday, June 6, and much afflicted brother in Chriit, 
1777, WILLIAM DODD. 



AN ADDRESS, &C 

My dear and unhappy fellow^ prisoners, 
/CONSIDERING my peculiar circumftances and fitu- 
^~ / ation, I cannot think myfelf juftified, if I do not 
deliver to you, in fmcere Chriftian love, fome of my fe- 
rious thoughts on our prefent awful ftate. 

hi the nxteenth chapter of the Acts cf the Apofties, 
you read a memorable ftory refpecting Paul and Silas, 
who, for preaching the gofpel, were caft by magiftrates 
into prifon, ver. 23. — and after having received many 
(tripes, were committed to the jailor, with a ftrict charge 
to keep them fafely. Accordingly he thruft them into 
the inner prifon, and made their feet faft in the flocks. 

At 



TO HIS UNHAPPY BRETHREN. 97 

At midnight Paul and Silas, fupported by the tefKmony 
of a good confcience, prayed, and fung praifes to God, 
and the prifoners heard them j and fuddenly there was 
a great earthquake, fo that the foundations of the prifon 
were fliaken ; and immediately all the doors were open- 
ed, and every one's chains were loofed. The keeper 
of the prifon awaking out of his fleep, and feeing the 
prifon doors open, in the greater! diftrefs, as might well 
be imagined, drew his fword, and would have killed 
himfelf, fuppofmg that the prifoners had been fled. — But 
Paul cried with a loud voice, Do thyfelf no harm, for 
we are all here. — The keeper calling for a light, and 
finding his prifoners thus freed from their bonds by the 
imperceptible agency of divine power, was irrefiftibly 
convinced that thefe men were not offenders againft the 
law, but martyrs to the truth : he fprang in therefore, 
and came trembling, and fell down before Paul, and Si- 
las, and brought them out and faid, " Sirs, What muft 
I do to be faved ?" 

" What muft I do to be faved?" is the important 
queftion, which it becomes every human being to ftudy, 
from the firfc hour of reafon to the laft : but which we, 
my fellow- prifoners ought to confider with particular di- 
ligence and intenfenefs of meditation. Had it not been 
forgotten or neglected by us, we had never appeared in 
this place. A little time for recollection and amend- 
ment is yet allowed us by the mercy of the law. Of 
this little time let no particle be loft. Let us fill our re- 
maining life with all the duties which our prefent condi- 
tion allows us practife. Let us make one earned effort 
for falvation !— And oh I heavenly Father, who defireft 
not the death of a fmner, grant that this effort may not 
be in vain ! 

To teach others what they muft do to be faved, has 
long been my employment and profeflion. You fee with 
what confufion and diihonour I now ftand before you— 
no more in the pulpit of inftruction, but on this humble 
feat with yourfelves. — You are not to confider me now 
as a man authorifed to form the manners, or direct the 
confcience, and fpeaking with the authority of a paftor 
& to 



9? THE CONVICT'S ADDRESS 

to his flock. — I am here guilty, like yourfelves, ef a 
capital offence; and fentenced, like yourfelves, to pub- 
lic and (hameiul death. My profeiiion, which has given 
me Wronger convictions of my duty than moft of you 
can be fuppofed to have attained, and has extended my 
views to the confequences of wickednefs farther than 
your obfervation is likely to have reached, has loaded 
my fin with peculiar aggravations ; and I entreat you 
to join your prayers with mine, that my forrow may be 
proportionate to my guilt ! 

I am now, like you, inquiring what I rauft do to be - 
faved ! and (land here to communicate to you what that 
inquiry fuggefts. Hear me with attention, my fellow - 
prifoners j and in your melancholy hours of retirement, 
confider well what I offer to you from the fmcerity of 
my good-will, and from the deeped conviction of a pe- 
hitent heart. 

Salvation is promifed to us Chriftians, on the "terms 
of Faith, Obedience, and Repentance. I (hail therefore 
endeavour to mew how, in the fhort interval, between 
this moment and death, we may exert faith, perform 
obedience, and exerciie repentance, in a manner which, 
our heavenly Father may, in his infinite mercy, vouch- 
fafe to accept. 

I. Faith is the foundation of all Chriftian virtue. It 
Is that, without which it is impoffible to pleafe God. 
I (hail therefore confider, firit, How faith is to be par- 
ticularly exerted by us in our prefent (late. 

Faith is a full and undoubting confidence in the de- 
clarations made by God in the holy Scriptures j a fin* 
cere reception of the doctrines taught by our bieffed Sa- 
viour j with a firm affurance that he died to take away 
the fins of the world, and that we have, each of us, a 
part in the bound lefs benefits of the univerfal Sacrifice. 

To this faith we mult have recourfe at all times, but 
particularly if we find ourfelves tempted to defpair. If 
thoughts arife in our minds, which lugged that we hzve 
finned beyond the hope of pardon, and that therefore it 
is vain to feek for reconciliation by repentance, we mult 
terr.ember how God willeth that every man mould be 

faved, 



TO HIS UNHAPPY BRETHREN. 99 

faved, and that thofe who obey his call, however late, 
(hall not be rejected. — If we are tempted to think that 
the injuries we have done are unrepaired, and therefore 
repentance is vain, let us remember that the reparation 
which is impciTible is not required ; that fmcerely to 
will, is to do, in fhe fight of H:m to whom all hearts 
are open j and that what is deficient in our endeavours, 
is iuppiied by the merits of Him who died to redeem 
us. 

Yet let us I ike wife be careful, left an erroneous opi- 
.nion ot '■he all-iutficiencv of our Saviour's merits lull us 
inrc carelcflh-is and fecur ty. His merits are indeed 
all-fufncient ! But he has pr-fcribed the terms on which 
they are to operate. He died to fave Gnners, but to 
fave only thofe miners that repent. Peter, who denied 
him, was forgiven $ but he obtained his pardon by 
weeping bitterly. They who lived 11. perpetua'l regu- 
larity of duty, and are free from any grbls or vilible 
trair grcflion, are yet but unprofitable lervants : — What 
then are we, whole crimes are haftenlng us to the grave 
before our time ? — Let us work, with fear and trembling, 
but ftiil let us endeavour to work out our falvation. 
Let us hope without prefumption ; let us fear without 
defperation $ and let our faith animate us to that which 
we were to coniider. 

Secondly, " Sincere Obedience to the laws of God." 
Our obedience, for the fhort time yet remaining is ref- 
trained to a narrow circle. Thofe duties, which are 
•called fecial and relative, are for the moft part out of 
our power. We can contribute very little to the gene- 
ral happinefs of mankind, while on thofe, whom kin- 
dred and friend fhip have allied to us, we have brought 
difgrace and forrow. We can only benefit the puolic 
by an example of contrition, and fortify our friends 
againft temptation by warning and admonition. 

The obedience left us now to practife is " fubmifrion 

•' to the will of God, and c dm acquiefcence in his wif- 

*' dom and his juftice." We muft not allow ourfelves 

to repine at thofe miieries which have followed our of- 

K % fences? 



100 THE CONVICT'S ADDRESS 

fences, but fuffer, with filent humility and refigned pa- 
tience, the punifhment which we deferve j remembering 
that, according to the apoille's decifion, no praiie is due 
to them who bear with patience to be buffetted for their 
faults. 

When we confider the wickednefs of our pad lives 
and the danger of having been fummoned to the final 
judgment without preparation, we (hall, I hope, gradu- 
ally rife fo much above the grois conceptions of human 
nature as to return thanks to God for what once feemed 
the moil dreadful of all evils — our detection and con- 
viction ! — We fhrink back, by immediate and inftinctive 
terror from the public eye, turned as it is upon us with 
indignation and contempt. Imprifonment is afflictive, 
and ignominious death is fearful ! But let us compare 
our condition with that which our actions might reason- 
ably have incurred. — The robber might have died in 
the act of violence, by lawful refiftance ; the man of 
fraud might have funk into the grave while he was en- 
joying the gain of his artifice,—- and where then had been 
our hope ? We have now leifure for thought 5 we have 
opportunities of inftruction ; and whatever we fuffer 
from offended laws, may yet reconcile ourfelves to God, 
who, if we fincerely feck him, will afTuredly be found. 

But how are we to leek the Lord ? By the way which 
he himfeif hath appointed , by humble, fervent, and 
frequent prayer. Some hours of worfhip are appointed 
us ; let us duly obferve them. Some afTiftance to our 
devotion is fupplied j let us thankfully accept it. But 
let us not reft in formality and prefcription s let us call 
upon God night and day. When, in the review of the 
times which we have paft, any offence arifes to our 
thoughts, let us humbly implore forgivenefs ; and for 
thole faults (and many they are and mull be) which we 
cannot recoiled, let us folicit mercy in general petitions. 
But it muft be our conilant care that we pray not mere- 
ly with our lips ; but that when we lament our fins, we are 
really humbled in felf-abhorrence*j and that when we 

* See Job, chap. xlii. ver. 6. 

call 



TO HIS UNHAPPY BRETHREN. IOI 

call for mercy, we raife our thoughts to hope and trufi 
in the goodnefs of God, and the merits of our bleiTed 
Saviour Jefus Chrift. 

The reception of the holy Sacrament, to which we 
/hall be called, in the moft folemn manner, perhaps a 
few hours before we die, is the higheft acl: of Chriitian 
worfhip. At that awful moment it will become us to 
drop for ever all worldly thoughts, to fix our hopes fole- 
ly upon Chrift, whofe death is repreiented, and to con- 
fider ourfelves as no longer connected with mortality.—- 
And, poflibly, it may pleafe God to afford us fome con- 
foJation, fome fecret intimations of acceptance and for- 
giveneis. But thefe radiations of favour are not always 
felt by the fincereft penitents. To the greater part of 
thofe whom angels ftand ready to receive, nothing is 
granted in this world beyond rational hope ;— and with 
hope, founded on promife, we may well be fatisfled. 

But fuch promifes of falvation are made only to the 
penitent. It is requifile then that we confider, 

Thirdly, " How repentance is to be exercifed.*' Re- 
pentance, in the general ftate of Chriftian life, is fuch a 
ibrrow for fin as produces a change of manners, and an 
amendment of life. It is that dilpofition of mind, by 
which he who ftole, fteals no more ; by which the wick- 
ed man turneth away from his wickednefs, and doth that 
which is lawful and right. And to the man thus reform- 
ed it is exprefsly promifed, that he mall fave his foul 
alive*. Of this repentance the proofs are vifible, and 
the reality certain, always to the church with which he 
communicates ; becaufe the irate of the mind is diico- 
vered by the outward actions. — But of the repentance 
which our condition requires and admits, no inch evi- 
dence can appear j for to us many crimes and many vir- 
tues are made impoflible by confinement ; and the 
ihortnefs of the time which is before us, gives little 
power even to ourfelves, of diftinguifhing the effects of 

* There cannot be a ftronger exemplification of this idea than the conduct o* 
the 5ailor, who uttered the queftion, with which we commenced our enquiry — 
What fhall I do to be faved ! What a change of rniiul a«d n«anuers was wrought 
in him % by the power of God ! Read A6s, chap. xvi. 

K 3 terror 



102 THE CONVICT'S ADDRESS 

terror from thofe of conviction ; of deciding, whether 
our pre lent forrow for fin proceeds from abhorrence of 
guilt, or dread of punifhment ? whether the violence of 
our inordinate pafiions be totally fubdued by the fear of 
God, or only crumed and reftrained by the temporary 
force of prefent calamity ? 

Our repentance is like that of other finners on the 
death- bed ; but with this advantage, that our danger is 
not greater, and our ftrength is more. Our faculties 
are not impaired by weaknefs of body. We come to 
the great work not withered by pains, nor clouded by 
the fumes of difeafe, but with minds capable of conti- 
nued attention, and with bodies, of which we need have 
no care! We may therefore better difcharge this tremen- 
dous duty, and better judge of our own performance. 

Of the efficacy of a death-bed repentance many have 
difputed ; but we have no leifure for con trover fy. Fix 
in your minds this deciiion, " Repentance is a change 
<c of the heart ; of an evil to a good difpofition." 
When that change is made, repentance is complete. 
God will confider that life as amended, which would 
have been amended if he had fpared it. Repentance 
in the fight of man, even of the penitent, is not known 
but by its fruits; but our Creator fees the fruit in the 
blofTom, or the feed. He knows thofe reiblutions which 
are fixed, thofe converfions which would be permanent $ 
and will receive them who are qualified by holy defires 
for works of righteoufnefs, without exacting from them 
thofe outward duties which the fhortnefs of their lives 
hindered them from performing. 

Nothing therefore remains, but that we apply with all 
our fpeed, and with all our ftrength, to rectify our de- 
fires and purify our thoughts ; that we fet God before 
us in ail his goodnefs and terrors ; that we confider him 
as the Father and the judge of all the earth; as a Fa- 
ther, deiirous to fave ; as a Judge, who cannot pardon 
unrepented iniquity ; that we fall down before him felf- 
condemned, and excite in our hearts an intenfe detec- 
tion of thofe crimes which have provoked him : with 

vehement 



TO HIS UNHAPPY BRETHREN. 10$ 

vehement and Heady refolutions, that if life were grant- 
ed us, it mould be fpent hereafter in the practice of our 
duty * ; that we pray the Giver of grace to ftrengthen 
and imprefs thofe holy thoughts, and to accept our re- 
pentance, though late, and in its beginnings violent 5 
that we improve every good motion by diligent prayer ; 
and having declared and confirmed f our faith by the 
holy communion, — we deliver ourfelves into his hands, 
in firm hope, that he who created and redeemed us will 
not fufFer us to perifh. Rom. v. 8. viii. 32. 

The condition, without which forgivenefs is not to 
be obtained, is that we forgive others. There is al- 
ways a danger left men, frem from a trial in which life 
has been loft, mould remember with refentment and ma- 
lignity the profecutor, the witneffes, or the judges. It 
is indeed fcarce pofliblej that with all the prejudices of 
an intereft fo weighty and fo affecting, the convict mould 
think otherwife than that he has been treated, in fome 
part of the procefs with nnnecefTary feverity. In this 
opinion he is perhaps lingular, and therefore probably 
miftaken. But there is no time for difquifition : we 
muft try to find the (horteft way to peace. It is eafier 
to forgive than to reafon right. He that has been inju- 
rioufly or unneceflarily harrafted, has one opportunity 
more of proving his fincerity, by forgiving the wrong, 
and praying for his enemy. 

It is the duty of a penitent to repair, fo far as he has 
the power, the injury which he has done. What we 
can do, is commonly nothing more than to leave the 
world an example of contrition. On the dreadful day, 
when the fentence of the law has its full force, ibme will 
be found to have affected a fhamelefs bravery, or negli- 

* See 2 Cor. ch. v. 14, 15. 

+ I would have this exprefiion to be particularly attended to—While as a dy- 
ing man, and with all pcflible fincerity or' foul, J add, that it" I could wifh to 
declare ray faith, ^ know not of any words in which I could do it fo well, and 
fo perfectly to my fatisfa&ioi:, as in the communion-fervice of our church ; and 
it I would wiJh to confirm that faith, 1 know not of any appointed method fo 
thoroughly adapted to that end of participation jn that communion itfeir. — ^ce 
particularly in this fervice, the Exhortation. ConfefTson, prayer beginning U we 
ch> not prtfume," 8cc.~Conffcrat\on— and prayer after receiving, O Lord 2nd 
heavenly rather, S-e — Convitfs mould, diligently And repeatedly read over the 
iervtce before they communicate, 

gent 



- 



104- th e convict's address 

gent intrepidity. Such is not the proper behaviour of 
a convicled criminal. To rejoice in tortures is the pri- 
vilege of a martyr 5 to meet death with intrepidity 
is the right only of innocence, if in any human being 
innocence could be found. Of him whofe life is fhorten- 
ed by his crimes, the laft duties are humility and felf- 
abaiement. We owe to God fmcere repentance : we 
owe to man the appearance of repentance* — We ought 
not to propagate an opinion, that he who lived in wick- 
cdnefs can die with courage. If the ferenity or gaiety 
with which feme men have ended a life of guilt, were 
unfeigned, they can be imputed only to ignorance or ftu- 
pidity, or, what is more horrid, to voluntary intoxica- 
tion : — if they were artificial and hypocritical, they are 
acts of deception, the ufelefs and unprofitable crimes of 
pride unmortified, and obftinacy unfubdued, 

There is yet another crime poilible, and, as there is 
reafon to believe, fometimes committed in the laft mo- 
ment, on the margin of eternity.— Men have died with 
a ftedfaft denial of crimes, of which it is very difficult 
to fuppofe them innocent. By what equivocation or 
referve they may have reconciled their confeiences to 
falfehood, if their confeiences were at all confulted, it is 
impoflible to know, But if they thought that, when 
they were to die, they paid their legal forfeit, and that 
the world had no farther demand upon them 5 that 
therefore they might, by keeping their own fee rets, try 
to leave behind them a difputable reputation ; and that 
the falsehood was harmlefs, becaufe none were injured, 
«— they had very little confidered the nature of fociety. 
One of the principal parts of national felicity arifes from 
a wife and impartial adminiftration of juftice. Every 
man repofes upon the tribunals of his country the liabi- 
lity of porTefTion, and the ferenity of life. He therefore 
who unjuftly expofes the courts of judicature to fuipicion, 
either of partiality or error, not only does an injury to 
thofe who difpenfe the laws, but diminishes the public 
confidence in the laws themfelves, and fhakes the foun~ 
dation of public tranquillity. 

For 



TO HIS UNHAPPY BRETHREN. I05 

For my own part, I confefs, with the deepeft com- 
punction, the crime which has brought me to this place ; 
and admit the juftice of my fentence, while I am linking 
under its feverity. And I earneftlv exhort you, my fel- 
low-prifoners, to acknowledge the offences which hav r e 
been already proved 5 and to bequeath to our country 
that confidence in public juftice, without which there 
can be neither peace nor fafety. 

As few men fuffer for their firft offences, and moll 
convicts are conicious of more crimes than have been 
brought within judicial cognizance, it is neceffary to in- 
quire how far confeffion ought to be extended. Peace 
of mind, ordelireof inftruclion. may fometiines demand, 
that to the minifter, whole couniel is requefted, a long 
courfe of evil life mould be difcovered : — but of this 
every man muft determine for himielf. — To the public, 
every man, before he departs from life, is obliged to 
confefs thofe acls which have brought, or may bring, 
unjuft iufpicion upon others; and to convey fuch infor- 
mation as may enable thofe who have fuffered lofes to 
obtain restitution. 

Whatever good remains in cur power we muft dili- 
gently perform. We muft prevent, to the utmoit of 
our power, all the evil coniequences of our crimes : 
We muft forgive all who have injured us : We muft, 
by fervency of prayer and ecnftancy in meditation, en- 
deavour to reprefs all worldly paffions, and generate in 
our minds that love of gocdnefs and hatred of fin, which 
may fit us for the fociety of heavenly minds. And, fi- 
nally, we muft commend and entruft our fouls to Him 
who died for the fins of men j with earned wiflies and 
humble hopes, that he will admit us with the labourers 
who entered the vineyard at the laft hour, and aftbciate 
\i$ with the thief whom he pardoned on the crofs ! 

To this great end you will not refufe to unite with 
me, on bended knees, and with humbled hearts, in fer- 
vent prayer to the throne of grace ! May the Father of 
mercy hear our fupplications, and have companion upon 
us ! 

€t O almighty 



I06 THE CONVICT'S ADDRESS 

" O almighty Lord God, the righteous Judge of all 
the earth, who in thy providential juftice deft frequently 
inflict fevere vengeance upon Tinners in this life, that 
thou mayeft by their fad examples effectually deter 
others from committing the like heinous offences ; and 
that they themfelves, truly repenting of their faults, 
may efcape the condemnation of hell, — look down in 
mercy upon us, thy forrowful fervants, whom thou haft 
fuffered to become the unhappy objects of offended juf- 
tice in the world ! 

" Give us a thorough fenfe of all thofe evil thoughts, 
v/ords, and works which have fo provoked thy patience, 
that thou haft been pleafed to permit this public and 
mameful judgment to fall upon us 5 and grant us fuch a 
portion of grace and godly fincerity, that we may hear- 
tily confefs and unfeignedly repent of every breach of 
thofe moft holy laws and ordinances, which if a man do, 
he fhall even live in them. 

cc Let no root of bitternefs and malice, no habitual 
and deadly fin, either of omiffion or c ommiflion, remain 
undifturbed in our hearts ! But enable us to make our 
repentance univerfal, without the leaft flattering or de- 
ceitful referve, that fo we may clear our confeiences be- 
fore we clofe our eyes. 

ie And now that thou haft brought us within the 
view of our long home, and made us fenfible, that the 
time of our diflblution draweth near, — endue us, we 
humbly pray thee, O gracious Father, with fuch Chrif- 
tian fortitude, that neither the terrors of thy prefent dif- 
penfations, nor the remembrance of our former fins, may 
have power to fink our fpirits into a defpondency of thy 
everlafting mercies in the adorable Son of thy love. 

'* Wean our thoughts and affections, good Lord* 
from all the vain and delufive enjoyments of this tranfi- 
t-ory world, that we may not only with patient refigna- 
tion fubmit to the appointed ftroke of de'a'th, but that 
our faith and hope may be fo elevated, that we may con* 
ceive a longing deiire to be diflblved from the'e our 

earthly 



TO HIS UNHAPPY BRETHREN. 10-7 

earthly tabernacles, and to be with Chrift, which is tar 
better than all the happinefs we can wifh for befides ! 

(e And in a due fenie of our own extraordinary want 
of forgivenefs at thy hands, and of our ucter unworthi- 
nefs of the very leaft of all thy favours — of the meaner! 
crumbs which fall from thy table — O blefTed Lord Je- 
fns, make us fo truly and univerfally charitable, that in 
an undiiTembled compliance with thy own awful com- 
mand and moft endearing example, we may both freely 
fo- give and cordially pray for our moft inveterate ene- 
mies, perfecutors, and (tenderers ! Forgive them, O Lord, 
we befeech thee — turn their hearts, and fill them with 
thy love 1 

" Thus, may we humbly trult, our forrowful prayers 
and tears will be acceptable in thy fight. Thus mall 
we be qualified, through Chrift, to exchange this difmal 
bodily confinement [and thefe uneafy fetters] for the 
glorious liberty of the fons of God. — And thus fhall 
our legal doom upon earth be changed into a comfort- 
able declaration of mercy in the higheft heavens : — and 
all through thy moft precious and all fufficient merits, 
O blefled Saviour of mankind ! — who with the Father, 
and the Holy Ghoft, liveft and reigned ever, One God, 
world without end. Amen *. 



G J 



DR. DODD'S LAST PRAYER. 

Written June 27, in the Night previous to his Suffering. 
~ iREAT and glorious Lord God ! Thou Father of 
Mercies, and God of ail Comfort ! a poor and hum- 
ble publican ftands trembling in thy awful pretence^ 
and, under the deep fenie of innumerable tranigrefTions, 
fcarce dares fo much as to lift up his eyes or to fay, 
** Lord, be merciful to me, a firmer!" 

For I have finned, oh Lord 1 I have moft grlevonily 
firmed againft Thee ; finned againft light, again ft con- 

* See Roflfelfs Priforer's DireAor : — 3 work of fome merit— and which I have 
endeavoured, in my melancholy hours of ltiiure ; to revife, and <l humbl\ h< pt 
improve , and mean to leave behind me, in the hands or the Ordinary. ^- : a 
teftimor.v of my fincere, but very weak, endeavours for the belt wcifsrt af un- 
men in confinement ; to whom 1 have written £• general Ad-ureig, to be 
fatwtsi to the nev» edition ©* &off«ll, 

vi£tlcn i 



IOS DR. DODD'S LAST PRAYER. 

viction ; and by a thouiand, thouiand offences, juflly 
provoked thy wrath and indignation ! My fins are pe- 
culiarly aggravated, and their burden more than ordi- 
narily opprtfnve to my fcui, from the fight and fenfe I 
have had of thy love, and from the high and folemn ob- 
ligations of my facred character ! 

But, oppreffed with conicioufhefs, and broken in 
heart under the fenfe of guilt, I come, oh Lord ! with 
earneft prayer and tears, fupplicating Thee, of thy mer- 
cy, to look upon me ; and forgive me for his precious 
merit's fake, which are infinitely more unbounded than 
even all the fins of a whole fmful world ! By his erof's 
and pafFion, I implore, to fpare and to deliver me, O 
Lord ! 

BlefTed be thy unfpeakable goodnefs for that wonder- 
ful difplay of divine love, on which alone is my hope 
and my confidence ! Thou bait invited, oh bleifed Re- 
deemer, the burdened and heavy-laden, the fick in foul, 
an I wearied with fin, to come to Thee, and receive reft. 
Lord, I come I Be it unto me -according to thy infal- 
lible word ! Grant me thy precious, thy inertirnable 
reft! 

Be with me, thou all-fufficient God, in the dreadful 
trial through which I am to pais 1 and gracioufly vouch- 
fafe to fulfil in me thofe precious promifes which Thou, 
in fuch fatherly kindnefs, hail delivered to thy amicled 
children ! Enable me to fee and adore thy d if poring 
hand in this awful, but mournful event 5 and to con- 
template at an humble diftance thy great example ; who 
did go forth, bearing thy crois, and enduring its fhame, 
under the coniblatory aflurance of the joy fet before 
Thee ! 

And oh, my Triumphant Lord 1 in the moment of 
death, and in the laft hour of confli6t , fuffer me not to 
doubt or defpond ! But fuitain me in thy arms of love ; 
and ch, receive and prefent faultlefs to thy Father, in 
the robe of thy righteouihefs, my poor and unworthy 
foul, which thou hail redeemed with thy molt precious 
blood I 

Thus 



BR, DODD'S LAST PRAYER. 109 

■ Thus commending myfelf and my eternal concerns 
into thy moil faithful hands, in firm hope of a happy 
reception into thy kingdom ; Oh, my God hear me, 
while I humbly extend my Amplications for others ; 
and pray, That thou wouldeft bleis the King and all his 
family : that thou wouldeft preferve the crown in his 
houfe to endlefs generations, and make him the happy 
minifter of truth, of peace, and of profperity to his peo- 
ple ! Bleis that people, O Lord ! and mine, as thou haft 
done, with the light of thy favour, on this little portion 
of thy boundleis creation. Diffufe more and more a 
ipirit of Chriftian piety amonglt all ranks and orders of 
men j and in particular fill their hearts with univerfal 
and undiflembled love : — Love to thee and love to each 
other ! 

Amidft the manifold mercies and bleffings vouch- 
fafed through thy gracious influence — thou Sovereign 
Ruler of all hearts! — to lb unworthy a worm, during this 
dark day of my forrows, enable me to be thankful ; and 
in thefmcerity of heart-felt gratitude to implore thine ef- 
pecialblefTmgon allmy beloved fellow-creatures,who have 
by any means interefled themfelves in my prefervation ! 
May the prayers they have offered for me return in mer- 
cies on their own heads i May the fympathy they have 
fhewn, refrem and comfort their own hearts ! And may 
all their good endeavours and kindneffes be amply re- 
paid by a full fupply of thy grace and abundant afTift- 
aiice to them in their day of diftrefs ; — in their moft 
anxious hours of need ! 

To the more particular and immediate inftruments of 
thy providential love and goodnefs to me, O vouchiafe 
to impart, Author of all good, — a rich fupply of thy 
choiceft comforts ! Fill their hearts with thy love, and 
their lives with thy favour ! Guard them in every dan- 
ger : foothe them in every foi row : bleis tl>em in every 
laudable undertaking : reftore an hundred-fold all their 
temporal fupplies to me and mine : and after a courfe of 
exteniive utility, advance them, through the merits of 
Jefus, to lives of eternal blifs. 

L Extend, 



I TO DR. BODD'S LAST PRAYER. 

Extend, great Father of the world, thy more efpecia! 
care and kindnefs to my nearer and mod dear connec- 
tions. Bleis with thy continual pre fence and protection 
my dear brother and lifter, and all their children and 
friends ! Hold them in thy hand of tender care and 
mercy ; and give them to experience, that in thee there 
is infinite loving-kindnefs and truth ! — Look with a ten- 
der eye on all their temporal concerns ; and after lives of 
faithiulnefs and truth, oh bear them to thy boiom, and 
unite us together in thy eternal love ! 

But oh, my adorable Lord and hope, futTer me in a. 
more particular maimer to offer up to thy fovereign and 
gracious care my long-rried and mod affectionate wife I 
Hufband of the widow, be thou her fupport ? fuftain 
and confole her affU6ted mind ! enable her with patient 
fubmiflion to receive all thy will : — and when, in thy 
good time, thou haft perfected her for thy bleffed king- 
dom, unite again our happy and immortal fpirits in ce- 
leftial love, as thou haft been pleafed to unite us in im 
cere earthly affection ! Lord Jefus, vouchfafe unto her 
thy peculiar grace and all-fufficient confclation ! 

If I have any enemies, oh, thou who dieditforthy 
enemies, hear my prayers for them 1 Forgive them all 
their ill-will to me, and fill their hearts with thy love! 
And, oh, vouchfafe abundantly to blefs and fave all 
thofe who have either wifhed or done me evil ! Forgive 
me, gracious God ! the wrong or injury I have dene to 
others ; and fo forgive me my trefpafTes, as I freely and 
fully forgive all thofe who have in any degree trefpaiTed 
againft me. I defire thy grace, to purify my foul from 
every taint of malevolence ; and to fit me, by perfect 
love, for the fociety of fpirits, whole bufinefs and happi- 
nels is love ! 

Glory be to thee, oh God ! for all the bleflings thou 
Jiaft granted me from the day of my creation until the 
prefent hour ; I feel and adore thy exceeding goodnefs 
in all j and in this laft and clofing affliction of my life, I 
acknowledge moft humbly the juftice of thy fatherly 
correction, and bow my head with thankfulnefs for thy 

rod ! 



LETTER TO DR. DODD. Ill 

rod ! Great and good in all ! I adore and magnify thy 
mercy : I behold in all thy love manifeftly difplayed j 
and rejoice that I am at once thy creature and thy re- 
deemed ! 

As fuch, oh Lord, my Creator and Redeemer, I com- 
mit my foul into thy faithful hands ! Warn it and puri- 
fy it in the blood of thy Son from every defiling ftain : 
perfecl what is wanting in it j and grant me, poor, re- 
turning, weeping wretched, prodigal — grant me the low- 
ed place in thy heavenly houfej in and for his 
lbleand all-fufficierit merits — the adorable Jefus 5 — who 
with the Father and the Holy Ghoft, livetii and reign- 
eth ever, one God, world without end ! 

Amen and Amen, Lord Jefus ! 



A LETTER TO THE REVEREND DOCTOR DODD. 

Sent to him during bis Confinement in Newgate. 

Dear Sir, 
T ET it not furprife you in this tremendous hour to 
J_J be accoited by an old, perhaps forgotten, but ftill 
fympathizing Friend. The world fmiles in profperity ; 
the Chriftian love in adverfity 5 and the hour of Nature's 
forrow is the important period for fuch a friendfhip. 

From the firft moment the melancholy news had 
reached s my ear, how truly was my heart engaged in 
prayer and pity! I anticipated the dreadful pangs which 
rend your foul ; and the awful confideration, that theie 
things were but the beginning of forrow, was ready to 
draw blood from my heart, as well as tears from my 
'eyes. I turned to him, from whom proceeds all that is 
'truly great and good, and was encouraged to intreat the 
merciful Redeemer to look down with tender pity, and 
caufe this dark night to become the womb of a bright 
morning j yea, the brightest your eyes have ever feen. 

Every ftroke of your rod deeply affects me 5 but, 
above all, I feel for your precious, your immortal foul. 

Will you permit me, my dear Sir, to throw aiide all 
refcrve, while treating on this important fubjecli Shall 
L z I pre* 



*1Z LETTER TO DR. DODD, 

. I prevail with you to bear with the manner for the fake 
of the matter 3 and defpife' not truth though ignorantly 
uttered ? 

I fear you have lived a long time in that friendfliip 
with the world which the Spirit of God declares is en- 
mity with himfelf. However excellent fome or many of 
your aclions may have been, you have reited in the let- 
ter, not in the ijpirit of Chriftianity j you have been 
contented without the experimental" knowledge of thole 
words, " He that is in Chriit Jems is a new creature/* 
Your will, your affections, your deilres and delights, 
have they not all been fixed on earthly objects ? Re- 
joicing in the pofleflion or mourning the difappointment, 
your daily delight has not been in the divine communi- 
cations of the Holy Spirit ; fellowfliip with God has not 
been your chiefeft joy 5 the purfoit of empty fhadows 
found nearer ace els to your heart than the noble choice 
of following the defpiied Nazarene. Think not, dear 
Sir, I draw this judgment from the late unhappy event. 
O, no ; that I only confider as the natural fruit of the 
unregenerate heart. The point I aim at is, the want of 
that change, that death unto fin, that new birth unto 
righteouineis, whereby the children of wrath become 
the children of grace. St. Paid fays, " I ha\e fought 
the good fight, I have kept the faith :" therefore he was 
willing to be offered up, ilnce nothing but a crown of 
righteoufnefs prefented itfelf to his opening profpecl. 
He had kept that faith which purifieth the heart, cver- 
ccmeth the world, and quencheth ail the fiery darts of 
the evil one. 

I remember, when I was about fourteen, the feafon in 
which I was favoured with your mod intimate acquaint- 
ance, you once told a ftory which I mall never forget, 
concerning one of the Scotch Divines, who faid on his 
death-bed, " If every ftone, timber, and nail in this 
<« houfe could fpeak, they would bear witneis to the 
(i many hours of fweet communion my foul hath {pent 
ci with God therein." O, Sir, can the beams of your 
houfe bear witneis that your enjoyments have been iuch 

as 



LETTER TO DR. DODD. 11% 

as eternity mail ripen ? And this heavenly difpofition^ 
you muft be fenfible, can alone fit us for the enjoyment 
of the New Jerufalem. No object can give pleafure nn- 
lefs it meets with a fenfe which fuits and apprehends it, 
The grain of corn is more welcome to the fowl than the 
richeft pearl. So to the foul whofe treafure is yet on 
earth, the beauties of thy lovely Jefus mine in vain. 
But, alas! who can break this adamantine chain ! Who 
can unlock the heart bound down with twice ten thou- 
sand ties, and bring the captive foul into the glorious li- 
berty of the fons of God ? Can difappoimment, can 
reproach, difhonour, lofs, or even death itfelf? Alas! 
thefe may torment, but never change the heart : it is a 
fight of the crucified Jefus alone which breaks your 
heart in pieces. This Jefus waits to do you good j 
hear him faying, Thou haft deftroyed thyfelf, but in me 
is thy help. O that you would cry ; his ear attends 
the fofteft prayer. This is my fear left you (hculd for- 
get there is no way into the fheepfold but through the 
door, and no way of entering that door but knowing 
ourfelves to be loft and undone creatures, whole ways 
have been altogether perverfe before him, and then to 
be faved by faith in Chrift alone. 

How often has Chrift appeared delightful even in a 
prifon ! Several have praifed God for bringing them 
there, and by that means awakening them to a know- 
ledge of their loft eftate, that they might be made ac- 
quainted with a happinefs till then unknown. Adora- 
ble Jefus ! fo work on the foul of this my unhappy 
friend, difplay thy pardoning love, and write it on his 
aching heart : 

" No; my beft actions cannot fave, 
" But thou muft cleafe e'en them 3 

" Yet when on thee I do believe, 

" My worft ihall not condemn." 

I know not how to break off. My fpirit deeply 

mourns both for your prefent and approaching faffer- 

ings, and equally for her who fo fadly fhares your eVery 

woe. Had you remained in profperiiy, nothing \Koukt 

have 



114 LETTER TO DR. DODD. 

been farther from my thoughts than a renewal of ac- 
quaintance ; for I have found, in being defpifed and 
trampled under foot of the great ones of the earth, more 
folid peace? more lading joy, than my warmed wifhes 
could ever have expected : but now I cannot forget you 
if I would, I long for your falvation $ will you acknow- 
ledge all the wiidom of the world can never fave you ? 
Will you look for falvation from the mere mercy of 
God ? How many have gone triumphantly to glory, 
even from under the hand of an executioner ! My dear 
Sir, that triumph may be yours ; and if you do not re- 
ject it, it furely mall. The king of terrors mall appear 
no longer terrible ; and your happy fpirit, loofed from 
every earthly tie, and delighted with the freedom of the 
living water, mail fpring into eternity with fo feeling a 
joy as you have never known in all your life. You 
have tried the world, and found it empty. Never did 
man drive more for the honours of it than you have 
done j for that, you turned your back on the clofed fol- 
lowers of the Lamb, the little few defpifed indeed of 
man, but whole lives were hid with Chrid in God j for 
that you have been conformed in all your life and con- 
versation to the cuftoms, fafhions, and maxims of it s 
but while you were a flave to man, ungrateful man \ 
who neither thanked nor payed yon, you flighted Him 
who is able to cad both body and foul into hell. But, 
O the unbounded love of Jefus ! He bladed all your 
hopes 5 he chadened and corrected. For what end? 
Only to convince you how ready he is to receive and 
make you a beloved fon. The wicked have no bands 
in their death, they will not liden to awakening fears ; 
but whom the Lord loveth he chafteneth : yea, the body 
may be given up to ruder, that the fpirit may be laved 
in the day of the Lord. 

I am not yet without hope, even for your life. It h 
founded on this : I know the hearts of all are in the hand 
of my God, from the king on the throne to the beggar 
on the dunghill, and he turneth them what way foever he 
will. I know, if you leek but Daniel's faith, PaniePs 

Cod 



LETTER TO DR. DODD. IT5 

VGod can fhut the lion's mouth. If, with Nebuchad- 
| nezzar, you have learned to acknowledge to Mod High 
luler over all, he can re (tore you again to your former 
tftate, or elfe take you to behold his glory. When I 
coniider your great talents, and how much you might 
have done for God, I cannot help crying to the Lord 
once more to fend you into his vineyard with a changed 
heart full of the Holy Ghoft and power. And now my 
dear Sir, what mall I fay ? My heart is full : I know 
not how to leave off: It is as though my pen could not 
part from the paper. Nature Shrinks from that pang which 
is ufually the fad attendant of a laft farewell : but Grace 
cries out, Yet there is hope. An eternity of joy pre- 
fects a kingdom where no horrid alarm of war mall 
break our eternal repofe ; where lorrow, death, and part- 
ing fhall be no more ; and the Royal Army of Crofs-bear- 
ers, who have warned their robes and made them white 
in the blood of the Lamb, are ready to embrace and 
welcome you among them. 

To that efficacious blood, with tears of love and far- 
row, I commit you 5 and, though with reluctance, I 
inn ft now conclude, 

Your fmcerely affectionate 

and fympathizing friend, 
Feh.ij-jj. Mary Bosanquet* 

By a feries of correfpondence, almoft weekly, from the 
above date, till within three days of his execution, Mifs 
Bofanquet fays Jhe had reafon to believe he felt a con- 
triie heart, and found the firmer* s Friend to he his, — • 
June z$th 9 he wrote her his laft farewell, as follows ; 
My dear Friend, June 25, 1777. 

/^N Friday morning I am to be made immortal ! I die 
with a heart truly contrite, and broken under a 
fenfeof its great and manifold offences, but comforted 
and fuftained by a firm faith in the pardoning love of 
jeiiis Chrift. My earned: prayers to God are, that we 
may meet and know each other in that kingdom to- 
wards which you have been fo long and lb happily tra^ 

veiling* 



Il6 PR. dodd's account of himself. 
veiling. I return you my moft. affectionate thanks for 
all your friendly attention to me j and have no doubt, 
fhould any opportunity offer, you will remember my ex- 
cellent, but n.oft afflicted partner in diftrefs. I do not 
know where to direct to worthy Mr. Parker, but beg 
to trouble you with my dying love and kind remem- 
brance to him. The Lord Jeius Chrift be with our fpi- 
rits. Amen, 

W. DODD. 

Soon after the Doctor's death, the lady received from 
a faithful minifter of Jefus Chrift, who conftantly at- 
tended him, a very encouraging account, in which he 
declares he believes him to be fmging the fong of the 
redeemed 5 and concludes his letter with the following 
words : 

" Thus ended the mortal, and began the never-ceafing 
€c life of your old and my anew friend : and I blefs God 
c< our Saviour for this new proof of his faving grace, and 
€C the power of his precious blood. 

" The time is elapfed 5 I have written more than I 
" intended ; and yet not a tenth part of what I could, 
" You may be comforted, as I have been richly. Your 
ei and my fears are at an end. 

" May the God of all grace keep your and my heart 
*' in the knowledge of him, yea, caufe us to grow in 
£( grace and love ! This is the earneft prayer of 
" Your affectionate friend, 

" and willing fervant in Chrift.'** 

DR. DODD'S* ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF. 

HPHE greateft affliction and oppreffion to my mind at 
•*■ prefent is, the piercing reflection that I, who have 
lived all my life in an endeavour to promote the truth of 
Chriftianity, fhould now become an obftacle to that 
truth, and a fcandal to that profeftion; — that I, who 
have with all my power, and with ail fincerity, laboured 

• Of this account Dr. Dodd may be fkid to have only drawn the outlines; the 
picture, as it appears, was finilhed by Dr. Jchnfon. 

t(» 



DR. DODD'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF, 117 
to do good, and be a bkfling to my fdiow-creatures P 
mould now become an evil and a curie, What mail I, 
can T, ought I to do, to prevent, as much as in me lies, 
any Inch dreadful confequences of my mame and my 
crime ? Will a public atttftation of my fmcere belief of 
Chridianity, and an ingenuous detail and confefTion of 
my offences, be of any avail ? — In order to do this, and 
to acquaint you in few words with a perfect knowledge 
of myfelf (though I mould wifh to do it more fully) be 
fo good as to confider the few following particulars : 

I entered very young on public life, very innocent— 
very ignorant — and very/ingenuous. I lived many hap- 
py years at Weft Ham, in an uninterrupted and iuccefs- 
i'ul difcharge of my duty. A difappointment in the 
living of that pariih obliged me to exert myfelf '$ and I 
engaged for a chapel near Buckingham Gate. Great 
i'ucceis attended the undertaking : it pleafed and elated 
rue. At the fame time Lord Chefterflcld, to whom I 
was perlbnaily unknown, offered me the care of his 
heir, Mr. Stanhope*. By the advice of my dear friend, 
now in heaven, Dr. Squire, I engaged under promifes 
which were not performed. Such a difiinclion too, 
you muft know, ferved to increafe a young man's vani- 
ty. I was naturally led into more extenfive and impor- 
tant connections, and, of courfe into greater expences 
and more diilipations. Indeed, before, I never didi pate d 
at all — for many, many years, never feeing a play-houie, 
or any public place, but living entirely in Chriflian du- 
ties. Thus brought to town, and introduced to gay 
life, I fell into its lhares. Ambition and vanity led 
me on. My temper, naturally cheerful, was pleafed 
with company; naturally generous, it knew not the uie 
of money ; it was a tlranger to the u r eful fcience of 
ceconomy and frugality ; nor could it withold from dif- 
trefs, what it too much (often) wanted itfelf. 

Befkies this, the habit of unitorm, regular, fober 
piety, and of watchfulnefs and devotion, wearing off, 
anudft this unavoidable fcene of diflipation, I was not, 
M as 

* The prefent Lord Ckefterfieli,. 



IlS DR. DODD'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF. 

as at Weft Ham, the innocent man that I lived there, 
I committed offences againft my God ! which yet, I 
blefs him, were always, in reflection deteftable to me. 

But my greater!, evil was expence. To fupply it, I 
fell into the dreadful and ruinous mode of raifing mo- 
ney by annuities. The annuities devoured me. 
Still I exerted myfelf by every means to do what I 
thought right, and built my hopes of perfect extrica- 
tion from all my difficulties when my young and be- 
loved pupil mould come of age. But, alas! during 
this interval, which was not very long, I declare with 
folemn truth, that I never varied from the fteady belief 
of the Chriltian doftrines ! I preached them with all 
my power, and kept back nothing from my congrega- 
tions which I thought might tend to their bed welfare 5 
and I was very fuccefsful in this way during the time. 
Nor, though I fpent in diffipation many hours which I ' 
ought not, but to which my connections inevitably led, 
was I idle during this period ; as my Commentary on 
the Bible, my Sermons to Young Men, and feveral o'her 
publications prove. I can fay too, with pleafure, that 
I ftudioufly employed my intereft, through the connec- 
tions I had, for the good of others. I never forgot or 
neglected the cauie of the diftrefled ; many, if need were, 
could bear me witnefs. Let it fuffice to fay, that du- 
ring this, period I inftituted the charity for the Difcharge 
of Debtors. 

Such is the plain and ingenuous detail of myfelf. T 
fevcereiy lament all I have done wrong. I love, and 
.ever did, religion and goodnefs. I hate and abhor vice, 
and myfelf for ever having committed any. I look 
with peculiar deteilation on the crime to which I am at 
preient obnoxious 5 and I wifn before I die, of all things, 
pofTible, to make amends — by the moil fincere and full 
•onfeffion and humiliation of myfelf. 

May xi, 1777, W. DODD. 



DR. DODD'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF. 119 

"The following Declaration Dr. Dodd inclofed in a Letter 
to a friend fame time before hefuffered. 

THOUGH I acknowledge in all its atrocity, and 
more efpecially with a v view to my peculiar circumftances 
and character, the offence for which I fuffer, — yet, con- 
fidering that it is punifhed with fuch fanguinary feverity 
in no commercial ftate under heaven 5 and that in my 
cafe it has been fully atoned for, fo far as human crea- 
tures can atone to each other, I cannot but judge my 
punifhment rather hard : — and ftill more fo, as that pub- 
lic (for whofe benefit and example fuch ignominious 
death and punifhment can alone be intended) has with 
a pleading (and almoft unanimous) voice fupplicated 
the throne, in the moil humble manner, to (hew mercy 
and avert the abhorred ftroke, by affigning another, 
though perhaps not lefs afflictive punifhment. 

In this difpenfation, however, I look far beyond the 
hand of poor human vengeance, and adore the juftice and 
goodnefs of God, who correcting me in judgment for 
deviations from the purity of his Gofpel, as a diftin- 
guifhed minifter of it, has been pleafed to call me thus 
by death to proclaim my repentance, and to attefl my 
faith in Him ; and to declare to all my fellow-creatures, 
and to my beloved countrymen in particular, for whofe 
love to me I am under the higheft obligations, my firm 
belief of the principles which I have long preached, and 
in my writings delivered with the utmoft truth and fin- 
cerity s and which I thus feal with my blood, in per- 
fect refignation to the will of my adorable Mafter, and 
in a firm dependence on thofe principles for the falvation 
of my own foul. 

W. DODD. 

M % Letters 



xlO DR. DODD'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF. 

Letters to Two Noble Lords of His Majeftfs Moft He- 
nourable Privy Council, 
LETTER I, 
My Lord*. 

I HAVE committed a capital crime, for which the 
Sentence of the law has patted upon me ; and whether 
that fentence (hall be executed in its full rigour, may, 
perhaps, depend upon the fufFrage of your Lordfhip. 

The (name and felf-reproach with which I now foli- 
cit your commiferation, I hope no man will ever feel, 
who has not deferved to feel them like myfelf. But I 
will not defpair of being heard with pity, when, under 
the terrors of a fpeedy and difgraceful death, I moft 
humbly implore your Lordfhip's intercefTion. 

My life has not been wholly ufelefs ; I have laboured 
in my calling diligently and fuccefsfully ; but fuccefs 
inflamed my vanity, and my heart betrayed me. Vio- 
lent paflions have expofed me to violent temptations j 
but I am not the firft whom temptation has overthrown. 
I have, in all my deviations, kept Right always in 
view, and have invariably refolved to return to it. 
Whether, in a profperous ilate, I mould have kept my 
refolution, public juftice has not fuffered me to know. 

My crime has been indeed atrocious, but my punifh- 
ment has no been light. From a height of reputation, 
which perhaps railed envy in others, and certainly pro- 
duced pride in myielf, I have fallen to the loweft and 
grcfTeft infamy ; from an income which prudence might 
have made plentiful, 1 am reduced to live on thofe re- 
mains of charity which infamy has left me. 

Whrn lo much has been given to juftice, I humbly 
intreat that life, fuch as it muft now be, may be given 
to mercy ; and that your Lordfliip's influence may be 
employed in difpoiing our Sovereign to look with com- 
panion on, My Lord, 

Your lordihip's moft humble Supplicant, 

June 11,1777. ,. WILLIAM DODD. 

* Lord North, then Prime Minifter. 

LETTER 



DR. DODD'S ACCOUNT OF HIMSELF. 121 

LETTER II. 

My Lord *, 

NOT many days are now to pafs before the fate of 
one of the moft miferable of human beings will be final- 
ly determined. The efficacy of your Lordfhip's voice 
is well known 5 and whether I mall immediately fuffej^ 
an ignominious death, or wander the reft of my days nr 
ignominious exile, your opinion will probably deter- 
mine. Do not refufe, my Lord, to hear the plea, what- 
ever it may be, which I humbly oppofe to the extremi- 
ty of juftice. 

I acknowledge, my Lord, the atrocioufnefs of my 
crime ; I admit the truth of the verdict that condemned 
me ; yet I hope, that when my evil is cenfured, my 
good may Hkewife be remembered j and that it may be 
confidered how much that fociety which is injured by 
my fraud, has been benefited by my charitable labours. 
I have offended 5 I am penitent ; I entreat but for life, 
for a life which mult pafs certainly in difhonour, and 
probably in want. Do not refufe, my Lord, to com- 
panionate a man who, blafted in fame and ruined in for- 
tune, yet fhrinks with terror from the precipice of eter- 
nity. Let me live, however miferable ; and let my mi- 
feries warn all thofe to whom they fnall be known, 
againft felf- indulgence, vanity, and profuiion. 

Once more, my Lord, let me beg for life 5 and wher^ 
you fee me going from the gloom of a prifon to the pe- 
nury of banifhment, do not confider public juftice as 
wholly unfatisfied by the fufterings of, 
My Lord, 
Your Lordfhip , s moft humble Supplicant, 

June 11, j 777. WILLIAM DODD, 

* Earl Mansfield. 

M 3 Vu 



1*3 DR. DODD'S PETITION. 

Dr. DODD's PETITION 

(prefented by his Brother) 
To the king's Moil Excellent Majefly. 
Sire, 
IT is moft humbly prefented to Your Majefty by 
^Villiam Dodd, the unhappy convict now under fentence 
^ft death, 

That William Dodd, acknowledging the juftice of the 
fentence denounced again it him, has no hope or refuge 
but in Your Majefty 1 ! clemency : 

That though to recollect or mention the ufefulnefs of 
his life, or the efficacy of his miniftry, muft overwhelm 
Jiim, in his prefent condition, with fhame and -forrow, 
he yet humbly hopes that his pail labours will not 
wholly be forgotten ; and that the zeal, with which he 
has exhorted others to a good life, though it does not 
extenuate his crime, may mitigate his punifliment : 

That debaied as he is by ignominy, and diftreffed as 
he is by poverty, fcorned by the world, and detefted by 
himielf, deprived of all external comforts, and afflicted 
by corrfcioufnefs of guilt, he can derive no hopes of lon- 
ger life, but that of repairing the injury he has done to 
mankind, by exhibiting an example of fliame and fub- 
roirlion, and of expiating his fins by prayer and peni- 
tence : 

That for this end he humbly implores from the cle- 
mency of Your Majefty, the continuance of a life legal- 
ly forfeited ; and of the days which by your gracious 
companion he may yet live, no one mall pais without a 
prayer, that Your Majefty, after a long life of happinefs 
and honour, may ftand, at the day of final judgment, 
3mong the merciful that obtain mercy. 

So fervently prays the moft diftreffed and wretched of 
- Majefty's rubje&s, 

WILLIAM DODD. 
Mr$, 



CONCLUSION. 123 

Mrs. DODD's PETITION 

(prefented bv Herfelf) 
To the qu£ EN'S Moft Excellent Majefty. 
Madam, 

IT is moft humblv reprefented by Mary Dodd, the 
wife of Dr. William Dodd, now lying in priibn undei^ 
fentence of death, 

That me has been the wife of this unhappy man more 
than twenty -feven years, and has lived with him in the 
greateft happinefs of conjugal union, and the highefl 
ftate of conjugal confidence : 

That (he has been a conftant witnefs of his unwearied 
endeavours for public good, and his laborious atten- 
dance on charitable inftitutions. Many are the fami- 
lies whom his care has delivered from want $ many are 
the hearts which he has freed from pain, and the faces 
which he has cleared from forrow : 

That therefore me moft humbly throws herfelf at the 
feet of the Queen, earneftly intreating that the petition 
of a diftrefied wife aiking mercy for a hufband, may be 
considered as naturally foliciting the companion of Her 
Majefty ; and that when her wifdom has compared the 
offender's good actions with his crime, me will be pleaf- 
ed to reprefent his -cafe to our Molt Gracious Sovereign 
in fuch terms as may dilpoie him to mitigate the rigour 
of the law. 

So prays your Majefty y s moll dutiful RibjecT: and fup- 
plicant, 

MARY DODD. 



SUCH were the lafts thoughts of a man wfcom wc 
have (qqw exalting in popularity, and funk in fhame. 
For his reputation, which no man can give to himfelf, 
thofe who conferred it are to anfwer. Of his public 
miniftry, the means of judging were fufficiently attain- 
able. He muft be allowed to preach well, whole fer* 
moos ftrike the audience with forcible conviction. 
his lifej thofe who thought it confident with his 

tr - 



124 OBSERVATIONS BY/DR. JOHNSON, 
trine, did not originally form falfe notions. He was- at 
firfc what he endeavoured to make others ; but the world 
broke down his refolution, and be in time ceafed to ex- 
emplify his own inftrucYions. 

Let thofe who are tempted to his faults, tremble at 
Iris punimment ; and thofe whom he imprefTed from the 
pulpit with religious fentiments, endeavour to confirm 
them, by considering the regret and felf- abhorrence with 
which he reviewed in prifon his deviations from recti- 
tude. 

Whatever afliftance his anxiety might prompt him to 
folicit in forming the petitions (which, however he mull 
be coniidered as confirming by his name) the account of 
his pari life, and of his dying fentiments, are the effu- 
fions of his own mind. Thofe who read them with the 
proper difpondon, will not read in vain. 



A few Days before Dr. Dodd fnffered Death, the follow- 
ing Observations on the Propriety of Pardoning him, 
were written and fent to the Public Papers by Dr. 
Johnfon. 

YESTERDAY was prefented to the Secretary of 
State, by the Earl Percy, a Petition in favour of Dr. 
Dodd, fi'gned by twenty-three thouiand hands.* On 
this occafion it is natural to confider, 

That in all countries penal laws have been relaxed as 
particular reafons have emerged : 

That a life eminently beneficent, a iingle action emi- 
nently good, or even the power of being ufeful to the 
public, have been fufficitnt to protect the life of a delin- 
quent: 

That no arbiter of life and death has ever been cen- 
fured for granting the life of a criminal to honeft and 
powerful felicitation : 

That the man for whom a nation petitions, muft be 
prefumed tc i it uncommon in Kind or in degree ; 

for however Hie mode of collecting fubfcriptions,or the 
right of judgment exercifed by the iufcribers, may be 

open 



OBSERVATIONS BY DR. TOHNSO^. 12$ 

open to difpute, it is at lead plain that fomething is done 
for this man, that was never done to any other, and 
Government which muft proceed upon general views, 
may rationally conclude that this man is iome thing bet- 
ter than other offenders have been, or has done fomething 
more than others have done : 

That though the people cannot judge of the adminis- 
tration of juftice fo well as their governors, yet their 
Voice has always been regarded : 

That this is a cafe in which the petitioners determine 
againft their own intereft j thofe for whole protection 
the law was made, intreat its relaxation : and our go- 
vernors cannot be charged with the confequences which 
the people bring upon themfelves : 

That as this is a cafe without example, it will pro- 
bably be without confequences, and many ages will 
elapfe before fuch a crime is again committed by fuch a 
man : 

That though life be fpared, juftice may be fatisHed 
with ruin, imprisonment, exile, in£amy, and penury. 



FINIS, 




\7 * 
COOKE'S 

Elegant dEtiitions 

Of the most 

ADMIRED WORKS 

In the English Language ; 

SUPERBLY EMBELLISHED, 

And sold at 

HALF THE PRICE OF 

Unadorned Editions. 



THE Proprietor of these Editions having* been at a consi- 
derable Expence in printing them in a style of FAeganee un- 
exampled in eotemporary W orks, and having caused them 
to be embellished by the most eminent Artists, it is 
presumed they exhibit unrivalled Specimens of the Graphic 
and Typographic Arts. 

A Plan embracing such essential requisites, well deserves 
the Attention and Encouragement of the Public ; for by en- 
s-aging ARTISTS of the greatest repute to decorate the SU- 
PERIOR EDITIONS, the Arts are not only encouraged, 
but the Taste and Judgment of those who are disposed to 
cultivate them are greatly promoted ; while the CHEAP 
EDITIONS are no less important to the general Class of 
Readers, as they place within their Reach WORKS of 
INTRINSIC MERIT at a small Expence. 

As these Editions possess the united Advantages of ECO- 
NOMY, ELEGANCE, and PORTABILITY, it is hoped 
that they will gain Admission into the Libraries of the Lite* 
rati, and the most Fashionable of the present Age. 

The united talents of the following well known Artist* 
have been exerted in the embellishment of these Editions, 
©airttew* 

Smirk, R. A. Fuseli, R. A. Opie, R. A. Stodart, R. A. 
Hamilton, R. A. Westall, R. A. Whoatlev, R. A. Peters, 
R. A. Kirk, Corbould, Singleton, De Wilde, Thurston, &c. 

(Engravers* 

Bartolozzi, R. A. Heath, A. E. Fittler, A/E. Anker Smith, 
A. E. Collyer, A. E. Neagle, Sharp, Warren, Milton, Rain- 
bach, Armstrong, Scott, Ridley, Holloway, Bromley, &c. 

London : Printed for, and Sold by C, COOKE. No. 17, Paternoster-row ; • 
and may be purchased of any of the Booksellers in Town and Country. 
Stereotyped and Printed by.D. Cock and Co. 75, Dean-street f Soho. . 



% PROSPECTUS OF COOKE S UKIQTJE EDITIONS. 

To unite Uniformity with Elegance, Cheapness with Utility* 

and to embrace all the Advantages of the largest Editions with' 
out omitting the Convenience of the smallest, have been the 
primary Olgects of the Proprietor. 

UNIFORMITY. 

The Want of Uniformity which had long prevailed in 
Works of a popular Nature, induced the Proprietor to supply 
that defect, by submitting to the Public this Collection of the 
most admired and entertaining Works, each printed ou the 
same Type and Paper in Octodecimo; a Size which avoids 
the ponderous, inconvenient, and irregular Extent of Scale 
on which most of the popular Works are printed : besides 
which, the Octodecimo Size is infinitely more commodious 
and decorative in a Library than a Collection of promiscuous 
Volumes in Quarto, Octavo, Duodecimo, 8fr. 

ELEGANCE. 

The uniformity and elegance of these Editions class them 
among the chief Ornaments of the Library, they arc embel- 
lished by the most eminent Artists, and the nicest Discrimi- 
nation is observed in the Printing, they exhibit an nnricallai 
Specimen of the Typographic Art, so that, from the united 
Efforts of the Press and Pencil, they appear in the richest 
Dress of Paper, Print, and Embellishments, 

CHEAPNESS. 

The Cheapness of these V.'orks is evident, from the Prices 
affixed to them ; each of which, though neatly printed and 
embellished, is reduced to half the Price of the most common 
and unadorned Editions. 

This important Purpose has been effected, by deserting 
the usual Mode of printing on Types disproportionably 
large, with preposterous Margins, considerable Spaces 
between the Lines, and unnecessary Blanks before and 
after the Chapters, Heads, Sec. by which means former 
Works have been enhanced to a double Expence, without 
embracing one good purpose. The Cheapness of Ihese Edi- 
tions has also been further promoted by the Sacrifice of a 
considerable Portion of the Profits usually'attached to Works 
of Celebrity. 

UTILITY. 

The Utility of this Library may be deduced from many of 
the Works it v comprizes, which introduce the Opinions of the 
greatest literary men, on the most interesting and important 
Subjects, and at small Expence, and they derive an addi- 
tional Value from the Biographical and Critical Prefaces.— 
The Proprietor therefore entertains the flattering Expects 



PROSPECTUS OP COOKE 9 UNIQUE EDITIONS. S 

lion, that Works of such evident merit and utility % which 
have endured the test of time, will meet with Kncounssr* •- 
ment, when those of much less Importance are purcituMMJ with 
Avidity : he is happy in being able to produce, by this cheap 
and elegant, yet close Method of Printing, such valuable and 
expensive Books, to Persons in every Line of Life, as have 
hitherto, from the enormous Prices attached to them, been in 
the Possession of but few ; and he has a peculiar Satisfaction 
id laying before the Public, at a. reduced Charge, Woi ks which 
not only tend to enieitain, but enlarge the Mind. 
SIZE. 

The Size of these Editions forms a happy Medium between 
Hie Extremes of diminutive Inconvenience and ponderous 
Inutility ; and thereby renders them as com)nodious for the 
Pocket, as they are ornamental to the Bookcase. Each Volume, 
from its convenient Size, forms an agreeable Travelling Com- 
panion, adapted for Amusement at the Fire-side, and equally 
commodious for passing leisure hours, when nature and the 
Reasons invite us abroad. But these Advantages would have 
been totally precluded, had the Works been printed in Octavo, 
a Size too large and ponderous for the Pocket, and calculated 
more for Works of Science than Amusement. Though the 
Works that compose this Library are so portable and conve- 
nient, yet the Letter is of the same size as most Publications 
which are printed in Octavo, so that to their Portability are 
aided Perspicuity, and Ease in Reading. 
PAPER. 

The CHEAP EDITIONS are printed on better Paper 
than works which are sold at douole the Price. 

The SUPERIOR EDITIONS are printed on a wove Vel- 
lum Paper, so well manufactured, and from such excellent 
Materials, that it never varies, but always preserves an uni- 
form beautiful Appearance of Colour and Texture, and, when 
printed on, has the additional Advantage of being highly 
glazed and hot-prcssud. 

PRINT. 

The Cabinet Editions are accurately printed, verbatim et 
literatim, from the most correct Editions, in a Style of Elegance 
that may challenge Competition, on a new Burgeois Type, 
of peculiar Clearness and Beauty, cast on Purpose for the 
respective Works, and so constructed as to comprise a great 
Quantity of Letter Press in a small Compass ; notwithstand- 
ing which the Print is sufficiently large tor an a»ed Person 
to read it with Facility, as is evident from the Specimen of 
the Type exhibited in the following Line ; 

Multum in Parvo 



4 PROSPECTUS Of COOKE'8 IW^l'B EDITIONS. 

The Argvments, Glossaries, Jfefes, $■<*. arc printed in' Minion 
and Pear), and the Pages are decorated with a Variety of 
ornamental and appropriate Devices, engraved in WoodJ by 
Bewick, whose Excellence in that Art stands unrivalled:. 

EMBELLISHMENTS. 

The Embellishments which accompany this Cabinet Library 
possess an uncommon Degree of high Finishing and beautiful 
Effect. They are taken from the Painting's or Artists of the 
first Eminence, and executed by Engravers of no less Celetoity* 
Each Plate bears the Name of ooth the Painter and En- 
graver from whom it has derived its peculiar Excellence. 
None of the Embellishments have been permitted to appear, 
till the Designs and Engraving's have undergone the strictest 
Scrutiny, arid have decidedly possessed a Claim to the Ap 
probation of the Connoisseur.* 

To gratify the Admirers cf beautif:d Printing, and decora- 
tive Elegance, as well as accommodate the general Class of 
Readers, the Proprietor has submitted to their Choice Two 
Editions. 

SUPERIOR EDITIONS. 

These Editions, from the distinguished Style of their Embel- 
lishments, are adapted to accommodate the Polite ?;id Fashion- 
able Circles, the Virtuoso in Embellishments, and the Admirers 
of decorative Elegance ; as they contain highly finished Scenic 
Representations, Vignette Frontispieces to every Volume, 
Portraits of the respective Authors, and other additional En- 
gravings ; as also the First Impressions of the Plates, worked 
off in the Manner of Proofs. The Price of these Editions is 
only One Shilling-, each Number. 

When Objects so happilv adapted to expand the Ideas are 
heightened 4>y the vnited Efforts of the Press and Pencil, it 
is presumed that Works formed on so eligible a Plan, may 
embolden the Proprietor to solicit, not only the Support of 
those who have patronized his former Undertakings, but 
the Countenance ef all tire Lovers of the Polite i$rts, to 
whom the Effusions of exalted Genius must ever appear Ob 
jects for heaurilul Illustration. 

CHEAP EDITIONS. 

These Editiom are neatly printed on a good Paper, and 
contain rrany Engravings ; b ut from their Cheapness cannot 
possess the great Advantages peculiar to the Superior Edi- 
tions. Notwithstanding they ao not possess those Advantages 
they equal, in Elegance, the 'Majority of other Editions, and 
are' infinitely cheaper than the most common and unadorned* 
The Price or" these Editions is only Sixpence, each Number* 



SELEC 


r NOVEL*. 






a 


Novels. 


Auikors. 


Q \tanfiiy. 


Price. 


Youiiff James 
Forbidden Marriage . 


. Voltaire 


. 1 No. 





6 


. Burke . . 


. J No. 


. 


b 


Sol y man and Ahntna « 


. Langrhorne . 


. 1 No. 


. 


6 


Nourjahad 


. Sheridan 


- 1 No. 


. 


6 


Almoran and Hamet . 


. Hawkeswcrth . 2 Nos. 


. 1 





Sentimental Journev . 


. Sterne . . 


. 2 Nos. 


. J 





Zadig . .'-.■. 


. Voltaire 


. 3 ft os. 


. 1 


6 


Rasselas . t . 


Johnson 


. 3 Nos. 


. 1 


6 


Castle of Otranto 


Mnralto 


. 3 Nos. 


. 1 


6 


Ponipey the Little 


Coventry . 


. 3 Nos. 


. 1 


6 


Theodosius and Constantia 


. Lang-horne 


. 3 Nos. 


. 1 


6 


Journey to the next World 


. Fielding- 


. 3 Nos. 


. 1 


6 


Belisarius 


. Marmontel 


. 3 Nos. 


. 1 


6 


Adventures of an Atom 


Smollett 


. 3 Nos. 


. 1 


6 


Candid 


Voltaire 


. 3 Nos. 


. i 


6 


Louisa Mil dm ay . 


Kelly . . 


. 4 Nos. 


. l 2 





Vicar of Wakefield 


Goldsmith . 


. 4 Nos. 


. % 





Jonathan Wild . . . 


Fielding 


. 4 Nos. 


. 2 





Peruvian Princess 


. Grafij^ny . 


. 4 Nos. 


. c l 





Chinese Tales 


Gueuiet 


. 4 Nos. 


. % 





Launcelot Greaves 


S;uoliett . 


. 5 Nos. 


2 


t 


Tale of a Tub 


. Swift . . 


. 5 Nos. 


. % 


6 


Devil on Two Sticks , 


. Le Sasj-e 


. 5 Nos. 


. 2 


6 


Chilli ver's Travels 


. Swift"' . . 


. 5 Nos. 


. 2 


G 


Sisters 


. Dodd . . 


. 6 Nos. 


• 3 





Henrietta . . 


. Lennox 


. 6 Nos. 


$ 





Joseph Andrews 


. Fielding 


. 6 Nos. 


. 3 





Female Quixote . 


Lenox . . 


. ? Nos. 


. 3 


6 


Telemachus 


Fenelon 


. ' 7 Nos. 


. 3 


h 


Humphrey Clinker 
Moral Tales 


. Smollett . 


. 8 Nos. 


. 4 





. Marmontel 


. 8 Nos. 


. 4 





Count Fathom 


. Smollett 


. 9 Nos. 


. 4 


6 


Tales of the Genii 


Morel! . . 


. 9 Nos. 


. 4 


6 


Roderic Random 


. Smollett . 


. 9 Nos. 


. 4 


6 


Tristram Shandy . 


. Sterne . . 


. 10 Nos. 


. 5 





Amelia 


. Fielding 


. 10 Nos. 


. 5 





Robinson Crusoe . 


. Do Foe 


. 11 Not. 


. 5 


6 


Adventures cf a Guinea 


m 


. 13 Nos. 


. 6 


6 


Gil Bias 


. Le Sage 


. 13 Nos. 


. 6 


5 


] peregrine Pickle 


. Smollett 


. 16 Nos. 


. 8 





Tom Jones . 


. Field in«r 


. 16 Nos. 


. 8 





Arabian Nights Entertainments Gallaiid . 


. 18 Nos. 


. 9 





Don Quixote 


. Cervantes . 


. 20 Nos. 


. 10 





Pamela 


. Richardson 


. opj Nos. 


. H 


6 


Grandison 


f _ . 


. 36 Nos. 


. 18 






SELECT BRITISH POETS. 



Gray 

Collins 

Otway 

Rochester 

Walsh 

Sheffield 

Smollett 

Hammond and 

Spratt 

Shaw&DorsettO 



6 

6 

6 

6 

6 



Armstrong 

Dr. Johnson 

Garth 

Pomfret 

Dodsley 

Lord Lvttleton 1 

Goldsmith 1 



Falconer 

Mickle 

Kenton 

Rowe 

Broome 

War ton 

Moore 

Tickell 

Lansdowne 

Cunningham 

Congreve 

Mallet 

Blackmorc 

Addison 

Savage 

Shakespeare 





6 
6 
6 
6 
5 
6 
6 
6 
6 
6 
6 
2 
2 
2 



Waller 

Langhorne 

Parnel 

Akenside 

Glover 

Shenstone 

Watts 

Somerville 

Thomson 

Gay 

Prior 

Butler 

Milton 

Pope 

Young 

Dry den 



2 
2 
2 6 
2 6 
2 6 
2 6 
2 6 

2 6 

3 

4 
4 
4 
4 6 
4 6 
46 
6 6 



At a Period when the Arts have arrived to a degree of Per- 
fection unexampled in the Annals of this Country, — when the 
Genius of the Nation is refined in proportion to* its Improve- 
ment, and an universal Taste prevails for Beauty and Excel- 
lence, it was thought the best Season for offering to the Notice 
of the Public, the complete Productions of the most admired 
British Bards ; and since the most approved Productions of 
the English Classics, the Drama, the most esteemed Novels, 
and the History of our Country, have been reduced to a 
convenient and portable Size, and* embellished with the most 
finished Execution of the Press and Pencil, the Proprietor 
thought«the Pods no less entitled to those superior Decorations. 

There is a happy Combination between the Effects o£ 
Poetry and Painting. What the Poet achieves by elaborate 
Detail, the Painter accomplishes by instantaneous Effect* 
To the Imagination of the Poet, the Painter is indebted for 
all his happiest Subjects; and, in return, the Embellishments 
of the Pencil Reflect a Lustre on the best Productions of the 
Muse. The Union, therefore, of Poetry and Painting affords 
an Employment for the Mind, at once 'elegant, delightful, and 
insiructivt ; and, when recommended with every Degree of 
Taste and Elegance, must evidently claim the liberal Patron 
age of the Admirers of Poetic Genius, exerted in all the Dis- 
play of lively Fancy. It is, therefore, the Design of this 
Work to combine the sublime and refined Ideas of the Poet, 
with the picturesque and elegant Representations of the 
Painter ; and to present at once, to the Mind and the Eye, 
the most beautiful and striking Objects, in all the Harmony 
of Verse and Force of Colouring. 



SACRED CLASSICS 

Fenelon's Pious Reflections 6 

Economy of Human Life 1 

Death of Abel - - - 1 6 

Howe's Devout Exercises 1 -6 

Sentaur not fabulous 1 

odd's Thoughts in Prison 1 



Fenelon's Dialogues 1 6 

Addison's Evidences of - f 

tiie Christian Religion " x " 

Blackmore's Creation - - - 1 6 

Pilgrim's Progress - - - 2 " 6 

Rowe's Letters - - -30 




L/UUll 3 HIUUtiHJ 111 JL 11.1 11 4. »' i JU'WC O 1JCLLGIQ - - ,1 

Dodd's Reflections on Death 1 6 i Harvey's Meditations 3 

The Intention of Ibis Undertaking is to presentto the Pub- 
lic, under the title of the SACRED 'CLASSICS, a Collection 
of the most ESTEEMED Works on MORAL and RELI- 
GIOUS SUBJECTS, written by Authors of known Celebrity, 
and happily adapted to form the Mind to the Love aad Prac- 
tice of Piety and Virtue. The Writings of the Authors we 
have selected for this Purpose, tend to convey both Instrvc 
tion and Entertainment ; some of them exhibit Examples of 
Virtue to attract Admiration, others Instances of Vice to ex- 
cite Abhorrence ; and all of them abound with exalted Senti- 
ments and apposite Allusions, and thereby contribute to impart 
Knowledge of the mcst important and interesting Nature, 

The Subjects, though variegated, are treated with equal 
Ability ; so that the Serious and the Sprightly equally enter- 
tain us, while they excite no distinct Images of corrupt En- 
joyment, and take no dangerous Hold of the Fancy, but all 
tend to the Accomplishment of one grand Design, which is 
to render Mankind religious and happy, by alluring the Reader 
insensibly into an Acquaintance with the Principles and 
Pmctice which they recommend. 

In an A^e of Erudition and free Inquiry, it must give a 
sensible Pleasure to reflecting Minds to see Instruction 
mingled with Amusement, and the most serious and impor- 
tant Truths introduced to our Notice in the Garb of Pleasure 
and Entertainment. 

As these Works tend so essentia!'./ to th? promotion of 
Piety and Virtue, their utility must be evident, not only as 
they relate to Persons in general, but the rising Generation 
in particular; a Consideration which must recommend them 
to Parents, Guardians, and Superintendants of Seminaries 
of Learning, as peculiarly adapted to animate the Progress 
of Youth, in their religious and literary Pursuits. 

By means of the Economy adopted in printing of the Sacred 
Classics, the Proprietor is enabled to submit to the Public, 
Works of the most beneficial Tendency at a Price which ren- 
ders them attainable to the generality of Readers, who have 
previously been precluded from the purchase of such valuable 
works, by the enormous Price that has been attached to 
them, though, from the Importance and Value of the Subjects 
they contain, they ought to be the Companions of every 
Christian Reader. 



a SELECT BRITISH CLASSICS. 

Goldsmith's Essays 10 1 Citizen of the World 3 

Shenst one's Essavs 1 Adventurer ... 5 6 

Johnson's idler \ .0 3 I Rambler .... 6 6 

The Classics, as above enumerated, will be succeeded by 
the following, as soon as the Embellishments can be procured 
from the Artists; 

Spectator I Guardian World 

Tatler Minor I Connoisseur 

The Design of the Proprietor of this Work i= to present to 
the Public, under the Title of the BRITISH CLASSICS, a 
Succession of Essays, which, from their intrinsic Merit, and 
the acknowledged Abilities of their Authors, are stamped with 
universal Approbation, not only as Standards of the English 
Language, for Purity and Elegance of Diction, but as impres- 
sive Lessons for general Conduct and Deportment in Life ; 
as they teach its minuter Decencies and Duties ; lend to re- 
gulate* Conversation ; and correct those Errors and Follies 
which are ridiculous, though not criminal ; and which, if 
they produce not lasting Calamities, impress hourly Vexa- 
tion, and annoy the Pleasures and Happiness of Society. 

The Utility of Essay Writing is forcibly described by Dr. 
Johnson, who observes that, " Before the Tatler and Specta- 
tor (if the Writers for the Theatre are excepted) England had 
no Masters of Common Life. No Writers had yet undertaken 
to reform either the Savageness of Neglect, or the Imperti- 
nence of Civility ; to teach when to speak, or to be silent , 
how to refuse, or how to comply. We wanted not Books to 
teach us our more important Duties, and to settle Opinions 
in Philosophy and Politics; but an Arbiter Eleganliarum* a 
Judge of Propriety, was yet wanting, who should survey the 
Track of daily Conversation, and free it from those Thorns 
and Prickles which teaze Life's Passenger, though they do 
not wound him. For this purpose there is not any Means so 
proper as the frequent Publications of short Papers, which 
we read not as Study, but Amusement. If the Subject be 
slight, the Treatise likewise is short. The Busy may find 
Time, and the Idle may find Patience." 

The British Classics is submitted to the Public as an eli- 
gible Companion to the Sacred Classics, as the Works they 
comprize are generally of a serious and preceptive Nature, 
exhibiting 1 good Examples, and being replete with those Ef- 
fusions ot Genius which, having a powerful Tendency to 
amuse and instruct, are consequently congenial to the Spirit 
of Sacred Classics, and therefore conformable to that Unisen 
of Taste which characterizes the Readers of such Produc- 
tions. 



Cumberland's Ornamental Edition of ike 9 ; 

SELECT BRITISH DRAMA; 

Containing the Biography of the respective Authors ; and ft 

Critique on each Play ; 

By R. CUMBERLAND, Esq. 

Whose numerous and excellent Dramatic Productions, sufficiently 
proclaim his competency to perform the task. 



Com us 

Minor 

Tanored 

Mistake 

Chances 

G amester 

Douglas 

Cato 

Zara 

Orphan 

Alzira 

Brothers 

"Wonder 

Miser 

Revenge 



West Indian 
Gamesters 
Provok'd Wife 
Jealous Wife 
Rule a Wife, &c, 
Inconstant 
Country Girl 
Confederacy 
Busy Body 
Fair Penitent 
Oroonoko 
Tamerlane 
Isabella 
.lavie Shore 
AH fcr Love 



Love in a Village 
Love for Love 
Beggars Opera 
Maid of the Mill 
Eve; y Man in hi; 
Humour 



Way to iveep Him, 

All in the Wrong Way of tne World 



Suspicious Husband 
Pro'-'ok'd Husband 
Careless Husband 
Lionel and Clarissa 
Rec uitiug Officer 



School fox Wives She Stoops to Gonauer 

Beaux Stratagem She wou'd & wou'd not 

Conscious Lovers Bold Stroke for a Wife 

Constant Couple Clandestine Marriage 

Mourning Ende Grecian Daughter 

Dist est Mother George Barnwell 

Tender Husband Venice pi-ese-ved 

Natu.al Son Chapter of Accidents 

The Plays ^numerated are published. Those intended to follow 
will he published in regular succession. 

The CHEAP EDITION (Price One Shilling each Play) 
contains a Portrait of a Performer, taken from Life, habited 
in the Dress of the Character assumed. 

The SUPERIOR EDITION (Price One Shilling ancT Six- 
pence )'is printed on Wove Vellum Paper, glazed &x\(\liot~pressed f 
and additional 'y embellished with a Vignette Scenic Representor 
Hon, every Drama in this Edition contains two Prints. 

The late Editions of the British Drama, with the exception 
f>f Bell's, having been impoverished by injudicious Abridg- 
ments, and robbed of some of their brightest Ornaments, call 
loiuliy tor Revisais and Restorations. 

Original Prefaces, Prologues, Epilogues, and sometimes 
whole Scenes have been omitted, for tne purpose of corre- 
sponding widi the Curtailments adopted by the Managers of 
the Theatre*. Jt has therefore been the particular care of 
the Editor, to restore to the Public what has been withheld 
from them by this capricious mode of publication. 

Tue Parts omitted in t.ue Representation are distinguished by inverted 
Commas. 

BELL'S BRITISH THEATRE. 

This Wor': contains a Selection of the most approved Plays on the Eng. 
lish Stage, whicj: t is limited space will not admit of enumerating - . 

The PubUs er having- pureha:ed tins Theatre on very advantageous 
Terms or the former P.o.prietor?, he is ev.abled to sell it not only at a 
lower rate than the British irama but infinitely cheaper than any Col- 
lection of Plays now publishing. Each Plav is otfered for Sale at tne fol- 
lowinir reduced Price: SUPERIOR EDITION, on Royal Paper, reduced 
from Five Shillings to Tuk> Shii/ings : Superior Edition, on Fine Demy 
Paper, from Eighteen pence to One Shitting: COMMON EDITION only 
Sixpence ; netwith standing eac'i Play contains Criticisms on its Merit, the 
Lite or the Author, and the Passages omitted in the Representations at 
tue Theatres. 



10 



COOKE S POCKET EDITION OF THI 



TOPOGRAPHY OF 

GREAT BRITAIN; 
Gr> British Tourist's Pocket Directory: 

AND TRAVELLING COMPANION. 

Being an accurate and comprehensive 

DESCRIPTION OF ALL THE COUNTIES, 

In Englmnd, Scotland, and Wales: 

With a particular Account of their 

Monument?, 
Curiosities, 
Antiquities, 
Picturesque Scenery, 



Situation, 

Extent* 

Towns, 

Roads, 

Rivers, 



Lakes, 

Mines, 

Minerals, 

Fisheries, 

Manufactures, 



Trade, 

Commerce, 

Agriculture, 

Ffcirs, 

Markets, 



que 

Hi: 



Natural History, 



Civil and Ecclesiastical Jurisdiction, Sec. &c. 



The whole interspersed with a variety of Information, entertaining to the 
general Reader ; highly beneficial to the Agriculturist, Trader, and 
Manufacturer ; and particularly interesting to the Traveller, Specu- 
Jatist, Antiquary, and to every Inhabitant of Great Britain. 

BY GEORGE ALEXANDER COOKE, ESQ. 

Editor of the Universal System of Geography. 

This Work being complete may be purchased collectively, or any County 
separately, at the Price attached. 



Cornwall 


1 


Devons! ire 


1 


Somersets .ire 


1 


Dor sets" ire 


1 


Wiltshire 


1 


Berkshire 


1 


Hampshire 


1 


Sussex 


1 


Surry 


1 


Kent 


3 


Essex 


1 


Suffolk 


1 


Norfolk 


1 


Cambridgeshire 


1 



Northamptonshire 1 



Rutland and 

Huntingdon 

Bedfordshire 

Hertfordshire 

Middlesex 

Buckinghamshire 

Oxfordshire 

Gloucestershire 

Monmouthshire 

Herefordshire 

North Wales 

South Wales 

Worcestershire 

Warwickshire 

Shropshire 



Staffordshire 

Leicestershire 

Lincolnshire 

Nottinsjhamsh. 

Derbyshire 

Cheshire 

Lancashire 

Yorkshire 

Westmoreland 

Cumberland 

Durham 

Northumberland 1 

British Isles l 



Scotland 



§ 



To each County is prefiicd a Map and a List of the Markets and Fairs ; a-b 
INDEX TABLE, shewing the Distance cf every Town from. Lcnd-m, andjrom 
each other ; also a a pious TRAVELLING GUIDE, describing all the Roads, 
Inns % Distance of Stages, Noblemen's and Gentlemen's Seats, ^.forming a 

COMPLETE COUNTY ITINERARY. 

A SUPERIOR EDITION 

Is printed on a large Wove Vellum Paper, glazed and hot-pressed ; it also 
contains Coloured Maps, Price 2s. od. each County, except Middlesex, 
Yorkshire, Lancashire and Kent, which are 5s: each. 

{£ Thi Description of Lonekm may I* had separate from th* Work, price 2*. 






Cooke's Elegant Pocket Edition of 11 

HUMES HISTORY OF ENGLAND, 

WITH A CONTINUATION BY SMOLLETT. 

The Priees of each Part are as follow, either of which may be had in 
separate Volumes ; 

HUME - - - \% Volumes - Price 2s. 6d. each. 
SMOLLETT - 7 Volumes - - - 2s. 6d. each. 
INDEX - - - 1 Volume - - - 2s. 6d. 

Superior Edition 4s. each Volume. 
This Work is embellished with upwards of Sixty Engravings, represent- 
In? the principal Events recorded to the History ; and Portraits of all the 
British Monarchs. 

Hume, as an Historian, has long enjoyed an extraordinary 
share of Popularity, and his Performance is admitted, by the 
majority of the Literati, to be the best account of the Affairs 
of this Nation. His Peculiarities, however objectionable to 
some, are Foils only to the great Beauties of a Composition, 
the produce of profound Knowledge, under the direction of 
•a vigorous and elegant Imagination. The spirit of Philo- 
sophy which animates his Work ^ives it a manifest Supe- 
riority over other English Histories. His Style is elegant 
without Affectation, and nervous without an appearance of 
Labour. He has related every Fact with Justice, Clearness, 
and Precision. 

In the Continuation of the History, from the Revolution to 
the Death of George II. we have given preference to Smol- 
lett, from the same Motives which induced us to make choice 
of Hume. These were, the concurrent Approbation of the 
Literati in particular, and the Public in general; and if the 
Merit of a Writer may be estimated from the rapid Sale ef 
his Productions, the claim of Smollett's History to the rank 
of Pre-eminence, cannot be disputed. The Reason is obvious, 
if we consider the nervous EUgance of his Diction, his pictu- 
resque Display of Character, and that Degree of ^flimatien 
which gives a Gloss to his Colouring, and diffuses a Life, Spi» 
lit, and Energy, throughout his Historical Narrative. 
Parsons' Pocket Edition of 

HUMES HISTORY OF ENGLAND, 

WITH CONTINUATIONS BY SMOLLETT. 

The Prices of each Part are as follow, eit he. of which may be had im 
separate Volumes : 

HUME - - - 10 Volumes - Price 2s. Od. each. 
SMOLLETT - 6 Volumes - - - • 2s. Od. each. 

m . Superior Edition 3s. 6d. each Volume. 

The Proprietor having purchased Parsons' Edition on very 
advantageous Terms, is enabled to sell the Cheap Edition at 
2s. each Volume, and the Superior Edition at 3s. 6d. In con- 
sequence of this Reduction of Charge, and of its being com- 
prised in only 16 Volumes, it is rendered cheaper to the Pur- 
chaser, by One Pounds than Cooke's Edition, 



n MISCELLANEOUS WORKS. 

Cheap Editions at the Price attached. 

SupeiHor Editions double the Price, 

New Bath Guide, a poetical Satire - -06 

Stevens's Lecture on Heads - - - 6 

Doddridge's Life of Colonel Gardner - 1 

Watts's Improvement of the Mind - - 2 

Watts's Logic, or the Right Use of Reason 2 

Watts's Philosophical Essays - - -20 

From the Cheapness of these Editions, and the small an 

convenient compass to which they are reduced, it might b 

apprehended that they were only given in an abridged c 

mutilated state ; but to remove such conjecture, the Propric 

tor assures the Public, that every Work is printed verbaih 

et literatim from the original Copy, without the least Devi* 

tion. 

It has been the Endeavour of the Proprietor, throughoi 
the Whole of his Pocket Library, to unite the two importer 
Objects of moderate Charge ana elegant Execution ; and h 
flatters himself that his Efforts to maintain Perfection in ever 
Department will justify his Pretensions to public Sanction. 
As the Works published are so numerous, it is presume 
they will afford sufficient Specimens of what may be expecte 
from the Future ; on which Test alone the Proprietor resl 
his Pretensions to the pennanent Reputation of the Editior 
he now offers ; as he shall ever pride himself in presentin, 
to the Public, through his own Exertions, and the Aid c 
eminent Artists, Works, by no Means outri vailed in the Grc 
phic and Typographic Departments. 

That the Public may form an Idea of the superior Execu 
tion of the Embellishments which accompany this SELEC r . 
LIBRARY, the Paintings and Drawings from which th 
Prints are taken, are submitted to Inspection, free of Ex 
peace, at the Proprietor's Warehouse ; where may be seen 
such Subjects as are prepared for other Works intended to b 
added to this Library. Those Paintings from which Er\ 
gravings have been taken, having subserved the purpose c 
the Publications, are to be disposed of considerably under th 
original Cost. 

EMBELLISHMENTS SOLD SEPARATE FROM THE WORKS. 

To accommodate the Amateurs of Art, Proof Impressions 
on large Paper, are printed of the British Drama, Britisl 
Classics, Sacred Classics, Select Novels, and Select Poets.- 
Price Sixpence each.— Those who select One Hundre< 
Proofs, will be allowed Twenty-five gratis. 

London: Printed and Stereotyped for C. COOKE, 17, Paterno#tef-r*w 
by I), Cock and Co. 75. Dean-street, C-xford-street* 



r\]( 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




014 150 811 8 



